Consequences
by ShooteM
Summary: Jack thinks he's lost Sam for good, response to challenge: Jack snaked
1. Default Chapter

Title: Consequences  
  
Author: Jodi Marie (Formerly ShooteM)  
  
Email: ag4bk@juno.com  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Summary: Jack thinks he's lost Sam for good  
  
Classification: BWC, S/J, UST, H/C  
  
Spoilers: Tiny early ones, but it does take place in season seven.  
  
Archive: Fanfiction.net, yes  
  
Disclaimer: Stargate/SG-1 and the characters thereof are the property of MGM/UA, Gekko, and Double secret Productions. This was written for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands.  
  
"Sometimes when I consider what tremendous consequences come from little things, I am tempted to think there are no little things."  
  
-- Bruce Barton  
  
For you can do whatever you want, but remember, it is also you who has to face the consequences of what you have done.  
  
--Anonymous  
  
Consequences  
  
The past few days had been hell for Carter. Not only did she have to oversee a mundane project being constantly screwed up by some inept technicians, her own project wasn't working out like she planned. She might as well start over from the beginning; she'd made some basic assumptions that turned out to be wrong. Add to that she never did finish her report from the last mission and wasn't ready for the briefing she needed to give come Monday morning. Well at least it was Thursday, she had plenty of time to get her act together. That would be if O'Neill stayed out of her lab for more than a few minutes at a time. The man was a menace to anything that wasn't nailed down. She griped to herself that if he really respected her he'd leave her alone.  
  
The soft rap at the door made her jump and she shook her head. Here we go, another round at the short-attention-span-theater. She was surprised to look up and see her father's face.  
  
"You ready to go?"  
  
"Huh? Go where?" Her mind rapidly shoved aside equations and probabilities and found the tidbit she'd lost. Mark's birthday was Saturday; they were supposed to go spend a nice four-day weekend at his place getting to know the kids and being a 'family'. Oh, crap, she thought, this thing was planned six weeks ago, how could she have forgotten?  
  
"Oh, Dad, I'm so sorry, I forgot. I didn't even ask General Hammond for the time off."  
  
"Don't worry about that, I just came from his office, we're good to go. He was a little surprised, but in the interest of international relations how could he say no?"  
  
"International? You?"  
  
"What else would you call it?" He grinned in that smug way only Jacob Carter could pull off. When she lowered her eyes to ponder the question he continued, "It's a rhetorical question, Sam, c'mon, I can't wait to see how the kids have grown."  
  
Even though she was less than prepared to go she knew she'd regret it if she put up any fuss; besides since she was going to have to start her project all over again anyway, she figured she might as well start fresh on Monday morning. It didn't take long to close it all down and soon they were on their way out of the mountain.  
  
After a quick run by her house to pack a bag they were off again.   
  
Mark and his wife were overjoyed that the visit was actually happening and the kids were beside themselves. Of course Jacob took every opportunity to spoil them, more than once earning him a stern look from Mark. Sam found herself continually laughing or at least smiling at their behavior; she liked this 'family' thing.  
  
Sunday afternoon found her sitting on the back porch sipping a cup of coffee and wondering if she'd really made the best decisions in her life or if she was just fooling herself. Who wouldn't want to be in her position? A great job, interesting and challenging, great people to spend time with, also at work, and if that wasn't enough, a great future to look forward to, again related to the job. She frowned as she recognized there was a trend here. The job, the job, the job. So when was it *not* about the job? And was it really so terrible if it *was* only about the job?"  
  
She was yanked out of her reverie when a bright yellow spongy ball came sailing her way and bounced off the side of her head. She picked it up off the deck and tossed it back out to the kids in the yard. They squealed with delight as Jacob caught it and dangled it over their heads and just out of reach.  
  
She sighed and walked back toward the house and slumped into an Adirondack chair, leaning back and closing her eyes. Her sister-in-law came outside and slid the glass door shut behind her with a soft whoosh.   
  
She grinned at the scene in the back yard. Her daughter let loose with a particularly high-pitched scream and she shook her head. "You don't get much of that down in the bowels of Cheyenne Mountain do you?"  
  
Sam smiled up at her. She liked Marcie, they woman was a perfect match for her brother; they had a hundred things in common yet were different enough to see issues from opposing sides; a quality that made their marriage as solid as a rock. "Yeah, no kids down there. Sometimes I think I'm really missing a lot of things while I'm down working in my lab."  
  
Marcie eased herself into one of the chairs. "Do you ever think about having kids of your own someday?"  
  
"Well, *someday*, sure. I guess."  
  
"You'll make a great mom, I can tell. My kids adore you."  
  
Sam looked out into the yard wistfully. In fact she had been thinking about having children and whether her career was worth giving up that hope indefinitely. "It's not possible for right now."  
  
"Why not? Mark and I have friends who are in the military and juggle a family life. It may not be easy, but nothing is that's really worthwhile."  
  
When Sam didn't respond Marcie decided to probe just a little deeper. She peered over the rim of her coffee cup. "So have you met anyone you could see yourself with for the rest of your life?"  
  
The question seemed so innocent. Not are you dating anyone? Or, is it serious? Just a simple can you 'see' yourself with someone. Sam shouldn't have been surprised at all when her first thought was of O'Neill.  
  
"So, there *is* someone."  
  
Sam blushed. "No not really."  
  
"You're a terrible liar. If it means anything I won't say a word to Mark or his Dad."  
  
It was a tempting offer to be able to talk to someone freely about something so totally forbidden she couldn't even let the thought creep into her mind. Most of the time. "Okay, there is someone that I care about quite a bit, but he's off limits."  
  
Marcie took a guess at the obvious reason. "He's married?"  
  
"Oh, no, not that. It's more a military thing."  
  
"The Air Force can tell you who you can and cannot be involved with?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"That doesn't sound right. What if you love him?"  
  
The shadow that crossed Sam's face was all Marcie needed to see and her eyes narrowed. "You *do* love him, but you can't be with him because of some lame regulation." She blew out a snort. "Seems to me you've got two options, get over this guy and move on to someone you *can* have or get out and keep him."  
  
Sam suddenly found the dregs in her coffee cup interesting. Marcie was right, she had to move on in her life; the question was would she move on with O'Neill or without him. She blinked back a tear and noticed a warm hand on her shoulder. "Honey, I'm sorry. That wasn't any of my business, but since I'm already butting in- if he cares for you at all, you owe it to each other to make a decision here. It's not fair to either of you."  
  
Sam nodded quickly once and pressed her eyes tightly shut. The warm hand became two warm arms wrapped around her, "Just remember you don't have to make any earth-shattering decisions right now and if you ever need someone to talk to, you know where I am." She squeezed then released her grip.   
  
From somewhere only mothers know Marcie produced a tissue and blotted at Sam's face. "Now, come on, help me get the kids in, it's almost time for you two to leave so we've got to get your Dad to give them up."  
  
The rest of the afternoon went too quickly and soon Sam and Jacob were loading their things into a cab bound for the airport. Every time Sam caught Marcie's eye since their short conversation she'd returned her gaze with a knowing look. When Sam hugged her goodbye Marcie whispered into her ear; "Anytime, night or day."  
  
On the plane ride back Jacob slept; it seemed two energy–laden youngsters were a match even for Selmac. It didn't bother Sam though; she was deep in her own thoughts. She decided she truly liked her job. Even so, when she considered where she'd be ten years down the road all she could see was a vast empty spot where the word 'family' should have been.  
  
The trip home was quiet and after saying good-bye to her Dad she headed home. All that night she tossed and turned, trying to decide what to do.  
  
Monday morning's briefing turned out to be delayed thanks to the unscheduled return of SG-4 with problems and concerns to be addressed. Carter gladly returned to her lab after being turned away from the briefing room. She couldn't believe she wasn't ready for the briefing; she'd been playing around all weekend and never got to finish her notes.  
  
The rest of the week turned out to be only moderately productive. Her project proceeded like clockwork now that she'd worked out the bugs and by Friday noon she was done. Completely. Nothing to do. At all.  
  
On a whim she asked Hammond if she could leave early and took off for home. She didn't really know what she was going to do once she got there but she'd figure something out. On the way she stopped by the local motorcycle shop to see if they ever got in those super hot spark plugs she liked.  
  
The parking lot was full and she realized a meeting of some kind was going on. Instead of driving by, she pulled in.  
  
"Hey Sam!" It was Joey, the proprietor of the establishment. "Long time no see! You're lookin' great! Come on, we're just getting' started." He pulled open the door of her Volvo and with a sweep of his arm invited her to join them.  
  
The 'meeting' turned out to be laying out the route for a weekend road trip. Including wives and girlfriends there were about thirty people, all die-hard cyclists. They were going to ride all day Saturday, find a place to camp out for the night then head back by a different route Sunday. No fast rough riding, just the joy of the open road. They were currently discussing traffic patterns and just how to get as far away from civilization as they could.  
  
"You know, route 30 is under construction, everybody's been avoiding like the plague since the road is so rough but a bike could handle it easily as long as nobody got overly enthusiastic on the bad spots. And they won't be working on it over the weekend.   
  
A tall lanky man with a touch of silver at his temples leaned over the table. "And you are?"  
  
She thrust out a hand but before she could introduce herself Joey stepped in. "Sam, meet Tony. We served together in the Gulf."  
  
"Sam, is it?" Tony took her hand and smiled. "From this point on, don't believe anything Joey says about me."  
  
She grinned, possibly for the first time in a week. "What do you think about route 30?"  
  
He glanced at the map then back up at her. "Looks like a winner." He looked around the room, "Anybody else? Okay then, everybody back here at 0700, that's *seven A. M. * to those non-military types-" He winked at Sam, "so don't be late."  
  
Joey elbowed Tony and whispered into his ear as the crowd dissipated. He actually looked like he flushed a little when his eyes met hers. While Joey was checking on the plugs Tony came over and spoke to her. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be a chauvinist jackass. Joey says you're a Major?"  
  
She couldn't help but grin at him. "Air Force, Cheyenne."  
  
"You do national defense stuff?"  
  
"Uh, deep space radar telemetry, actually." Someday she was gonna come up with a better cover story.  
  
"Yeah, right. By the way, I wasn't in combat in the Gulf; I was in Public Relations. I'm the guy who told the reporters what they could and could not say on the air."  
  
She nodded once, still smiling.  
  
"You ought to come with us, several of us are riding solo, you could take your pick."  
  
"Actually I just might. But I'll bring my own ride, and tent." She giggled as he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Far be it from me to get between a woman and her bike."  
  
The ride up to the mountains was glorious, the camaraderie around the campfire was relaxed and comfortable and by they time the group had polished off a few dozen hot dogs cooked on sticks over the campfire Sam was sorry the trip was only two days long. The only equations she'd thought about were engine compression ratios; no Naquadah, no wormholes, no 'c'mon Carter, think of something'. She felt completely rested and rejuvenated.  
  
Monday morning came way to soon and during the briefing she was barely able to keep her mind on the subject, which was very unfortunate considering it was *she* who was giving the briefing in the first place. When O'Neill corrected her and was actually right, she knew she had to get her act together.  
  
Afterward he had to rub it in a little. "So, Carter, long weekend? A little too much partying?"  
  
"Sir," she groused, "No, I was out of town. I just didn't get enough sleep last night." For some reason she didn't want to tell him what she had been doing.  
  
"Don't sweat it, everybody's entitled to an off day now and then, Hammond didn't even notice you were reading from the wrong file."  
  
She jerked her head down and scowled. She had just gone over the statistics for the project that had failed, not the one she just finished last Friday. Luckily she had ad-libbed everything except the actual numbers so the most important information she gave them was accurate, in a round about way.  
  
"Thank you Sir for pointing that out, I'll be sure to correct it at the next briefing. I really have to go." With that she swung around and stalked out of the room. 'Shit', she thought to herself as she went, 'he didn't deserve that.' For once her CO had revealed that he really did pay attention to her reports and she shut him down. "Crap. Stupid. Dammit." She punctuated every few steps all the way to her lab.  
  
They had a mission off world the next day and were gone two nights, getting back early Thursday morning. Sam was behaving more or less like herself, when she was moody that is, so the guys all gave her a wide berth, especially O'Neill. She figured he must have told them it was 'that time' of the month but she didn't care. She didn't want to talk to any of them anyway. She finished her sample taking and soil analysis way before Daniel was done so most of the last afternoon she spent just walking around and enjoying the quiet planet.   
  
It wasn't that far different than the scenery she took in on the road trip. She found herself thinking about the people she'd met and how much she liked all of them, especially Tony.  
  
He was ex-military so he understood 'classified' and never pressed her to know what she *really* did in the mountain. He was smart, funny, and had a great bike. What wasn't to love?  
  
She surprised herself to use *that* word in *that* context. Not love, no way, but intrigue, yes. When she got back she was going to pump Joey for some information.  
  
When she got home Thursday evening there was a message flashing on her answering machine. "I hope you don't mind, I got Joey to rat you out for your phone number. He's way to easy, don't tell him I said that. He said you go out of town a lot so I don't know when you'll get this, but Friday night the group is getting together for some guitar pickin' and laughs out at the park on the north side of Petersen Base. I don't know the name but Joey said everybody knows where it is. Why don't you come on out and join us? I promise I won't be doing any of the singing. Hey, we're gonna grill up a mess of hot dogs so if you come BYOM, for the non-military around here that's Bring Your Own Mustard."  
  
She grinned as the message ended. What a nut! The whole next day at work she couldn't stretch her attention span past three minutes. She was continually looking at the clock and counting down the time. It wouldn't do any good to leave early, the gathering wouldn't start until after dark most likely, so all she could do was bide her time until then. Even O'Neill coming and going several times throughout the day didn't keep her in her routine. He'd come in and watch her flit from one project to another then decide she *must* surely know what she was doing and leave, completely unaware that her actions were only a charade.  
  
When she got to the park Tony was there sitting with a small group, not singing but he was playing a guitar with great finesse. When he saw her his face lit up. "Sam! You made it!"  
  
He handed the guitar off to one of the others and greeted her warmly only to be surprised when she pressed a bottle of mustard into his hand. He looked at it and grinned. "Dijon Vu!"   
  
She looked back at him oddly so he continued, "I think I've seen this somewhere before. Oh, here!" He pulled an identical yellow bottle out of his jacket and held it up with the one she'd given him.  
  
She shook her head and grinned. "Do you guys ever eat anything else?"  
  
"What? There's something wrong with Harley Steaks?"  
  
The coals were ready and they were just opening the packages of wieners when two police cars showed up. The group was informed in no uncertain terms that the park *closed* at sunset. There would be no cookout tonight.  
  
Since most of them had been there for a few hours already they just broke up instead of moving off somewhere else.  
  
"So are you really hungry or did you just come for the dogs?"  
  
"That and the singing." She drawled out the word 'singing' in her best hillbilly twang.  
  
Tony grinned then looked down and scrubbed his toe in the dirt. "I, uh, know we really just met but, you want to go get something to eat with me?"  
  
"I thought you'd never ask." With that she moved beside him and curled her arm up under his, "I know a great place with *real* steaks."   
  
She didn't get in until 2 AM and promptly slept until noon. When she got up her message light was flashing again.   
  
"Sam, it's me. If I'm being too forward tell me to shove off Okay? I'm a real Sci-fi buff and that new flick just opened in town. You want to go? I don't really want to do the whole dinner and a movie thing but if you'd like to go ring me back. Here's my cell number-"  
  
She quickly jotted down the number on a pad. As she picked up the phone she paused. What was she doing? Dating? She set the phone down and stared out the window for a moment before picking it up again. So be it. Sam Carter was dating.  
  
Over the next few weeks the 'dating' continued much to Carter's elation. She didn't stay late at work even once and was actually pushing for a speedy return home every time SG-1 went through the Gate. Her absence was not unnoticed by O'Neill who found himself increasingly bored. He hadn't realized until now just how much he enjoyed not knowing what Carter was doing but still being able to watch her do it.  
  
He actually got his reports done. All of them. With bullet point summaries. Even Hammond was impressed.  
  
Early the next week SG-1 was scheduled for a morning briefing. As O'Neill climbed the steps he could already hear Daniel and Sam talking. She was obviously very excited about the subject and was speaking with a lively tone in her voice about someone named Tony.  
  
Daniel was responding to her. "But how do you keep the conversation going? I mean you can't talk about anything that goes on around here. I can't believe you have much in common with some biker."  
  
"He's not *some* biker. He's a nice guy and he's ex-military, he doesn't push me."  
  
O'Neill stood at the doorway and cleared his throat. Carter's mouth snapped shut and she lowered her eyes to the table. She knew this would happen. She had to confront it sooner or later; she just didn't expect to feel so guilty about it.  
  
As soon as the briefing was over she moved directly into O'Neill's path and blocked his way to the door. "Sir. I need to speak with you about something."  
  
"Of course." He turned back into the room.   
  
"No, uh-" She reached out and barely touched his arm. "Not here. Maybe we could go somewhere?"  
  
He turned and looked at her, not blinking. "We could go to the surface if you'd like. It *was* a beautiful morning when we came in."  
  
She winced but nodded. All the better to be completely out of the complex. They walked side by side to the elevators and on up to the surface never breaking the silence. Once outside he turned around and faced her, "Carter?"  
  
"Colonel." She looked away down the path. "Can we walk a while?"  
  
He nodded and they moved away from the entrance, still walking side by side. The path was narrow enough their proximity made their shoulders brush occasionally but she barely noticed she was so intent on her explanation.  
  
She started by talking about her visit to her brother's home and how she felt about seeing a real family in action. Her priorities had changed with those revelations she had that weekend; now she wanted more than just the 'job'. "It's not that it's not rewarding, it is, it always will be to me, but there's more to living than work. I just don't want to wake up ten years from now and wonder where the time went. Like life just passed me by while I was buried in my lab."  
  
"The old 'biological clock' ticking away is it?" He didn't really mean to be snarky; it just came out that way. He was most surprised when she agreed.  
  
"In fact, it is. I'm not getting any younger and that mountain will be there long after I'm gone." She proceeded to tell him about meeting Tony and how much fun she had just being herself again.  
  
"You're always *yourself*, just sometimes a little preoccupied."  
  
"Okay, poor choice of words. Since I've been spending time with Tony I feel- well, free, unfettered by rules and-" She paused to decide if she should really say it. "Regulations."  
  
"Um, hmm." He shoved his hands in his pockets and took a step off the path facing away from her. The sun was breaking through the trees in patches and here it was warm and bright. "You're happy, right?"  
  
"Yes, I am."  
  
He jerked his head up and looked directly at her. "Good. Then I wish you well."  
  
She frowned and shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"Of, course not." As they looked into each other's eyes the truth was laid bare. She'd already left.  
  
They left on a short six-hour mission the next day. O'Neill was in full military command mode the whole time and one would think he had a hot date waiting for him at home, or at least tickets to some sporting event.  
  
After the umpteenth order barked in his direction Daniel had had enough. "What is it with you today? We're only gonna be here a few hours and we all know that! We're working as fast as we can. Back off, would you?"  
  
O'Neill turned to counter the younger man's assault but suddenly stopped himself and stalked off, leaving the scientists to their work. "Jeez, did he get some bad news or something? He's been a bear all day."  
  
Sam bit her lower lip and thought a moment before replying. "In a way, maybe he did. I talked to him about Tony."  
  
'You're saying he's acting like this because he's jealous?"  
  
"No. No. Not that." She was stammering. "It's just hard sometimes to put things behind you." As she spoke she realized she was speaking as much about herself as her CO.  
  
The post-mission briefing was put off until the next day and as per her now usual routine Carter didn't hang around. O'Neill was bored; Daniel was still pissed at him and even Teal'c had somehow managed to make himself scarce. So, O'Neill headed for home, knowing he'd be just as bored there; at least he had something to look forward to; after going over their last mission they'd be prepping up for a new one right away. He'd already looked over the preliminary MALP surveys and knew it would be much longer, at least several days if not a week. There would be plenty of time for him to repair whatever damage he'd done on this last one, and besides, Carter wouldn't be running off early every evening. He glanced over the survey photos at the plentitude of trees and smiled, he couldn't help but look forward to this mission.  
  
Carter's lack of presence when he arrived at the next day's briefing was irritating to the Colonel. He couldn't believe she was late again; guy or no guy, she still had a job to do. Irritation gave way to outright annoyance when General Hammond broke the news Carter would not be attending at all. She had requested leave on short notice and would be gone for two weeks.  
  
After the briefing, now made much longer and dryer since it was run by Daniel, O'Neil decided to blow off some steam in the gym. Teal'c arrived shortly after him and seeing the Colonel deliver several hefty punches to a bag asked if he would consider a short spar.   
  
"Sure, why not? Maybe what I need is a good ass-kicking. Let's do it."  
  
Teal'c inclined his head at the odd answer and gestured to the mat. At once Teal'c could see the man was in prime form today; he was actually getting through a few jabs. For just a moment Teal'c let down his guard and was suddenly assailed with a hard punch to his solar plexus knocking him back and the wind out of him. He teetered off-balance but before he could fall O'Neill locked his arm around the big man's forearm and pulled him back up. "T! Whoa big guy, where ya goin'?"  
  
He leaned forward to catch his breath. "O'Neill, it would seem you have an advantage today."  
  
"Advantage? Over you? And just what would that be?"  
  
"As I continue to observe your culture, I have noticed that frequently when males vie for the attention of a single female their physical prowess often exerts itself."  
  
"What did you just say? " O'Neill looked back at him with confusion.  
  
"I have noticed-"  
  
O'Neill cut him of with a wave of his hand, "I got it. I heard what you said. That's not what it is."  
  
Teal'c inclined his head and looked back silently.   
  
"Okay, I've been a little jumpy lately and I needed to blow off some steam. That's all. Comprende?"  
  
At the blank look from Teal'c he shook his head, "Do you understand?"  
  
"I understand." The Jaffa stood upright and turned to walk away. Before he left he mat he turned his head back over his shoulder and added, "More than you, it would seem."  
  
He left O'Neill standing there taken aback at his remark.  
  
Later that evening O'Neill found himself standing at the door to Teal'c's quarters, staring at the blank grey door. After several moments he dragged himself out of his stupor and rapped lightly on the cold metal.  
  
"Enter."  
  
Once inside he closed the door quietly and stepped into the ever-present candlelight. "T, I wanted to apologize for being a bit short tempered lately." As he talked he absent-mindedly played with a drop of wax on one of the candles and subsequently burned his fingertip, jerking his hand back from the flame and sticking it in his mouth to suck the heat out of it.  
  
Teal'c only blinked at the perceived silliness before him. Sometimes it was painfully obvious to him that he had many more years of experience than even this grey-haired seasoned warrior. He stood and approached his friend. "There is no need to apologize, you should, however, realize there has been a change in your behavior as Major Carter has spent less time here."  
  
O'Neill looked back at him surprised and gestured with his hands, "What change?" He didn't give the Jaffa time to respond. "Okay, you're right. I've been bored, what can I say? I didn't realize how much time I spent in her lab, not that I knew what she was doing in there anyway." He pause and lightly tapped his fist against the wall. "Crap, is it that obvious?"  
  
"It is."  
  
Leave it to the original 'man of few words' to be blunt. O'Neill looked back at him and pressed his mouth into a thin line. "You're right. It is. She said she was happy and here I am moping around about it. I should be glad for her. She deserves to be happy, we all do." He reached out and grasped Teal'c's upper arm. "See you tomorrow. We've still got a 'go' for the mission, just us boys this time."  
  
The mission turned out to be scrubbed for the time being as the General decided it would be too difficult to replace the Major on this one. The mineral surveys alone would be quite extensive and he couldn't spare a geologist from another team right now.  
  
Let down and still bored, O'Neill was intent on not giving in to any more unprofessional behavior; he literally threw himself into his work. Two weeks could go by pretty quickly if you knew where the needs were. He volunteered to take on a couple of Cadet training exercises and even signed on for some night watches at the SGC in addition to his usual schedule.  
  
On his second night shift he was surprised by the blare of the klaxons announcing an unscheduled Gate activation. Since he was the senior officer on shift he was already present, using the General's office to go over personnel reports. At the sound of the harsh alarms going off he turned to the window and watched the first two chevrons lock before darting out of the office and down the steps to the control room. Once there he rested a hand on the shoulder of a very young lieutenant who was manning the console. The kid looked scared to death, as if he expected a hundred Jaffa to storm through the gate.  
  
O'Neill scanned the panels and spoke in a purposefully even tone. "Make sure you're set to receive any incoming signals. Could just be SG-4 coming back a bit early. Here we go."  
  
As he spoke the final word the seventh chevron locked and the Gate whooshed open. As soon as the event horizon settled back on itself he gave the order, "Close the iris."  
  
The lieutenant slammed his hand on the control more forcefully than was needed. All eyes were on the young man as he tapped commands into the keyboard and listened carefully on his headset. "Sir, incoming transmission."  
  
"Identify."  
  
"Tok'ra IDC, confirmed."  
  
"Open the iris." O'Neill leaned forward to the desk microphone, "Team stand down. Friendly traveler." He wondered if the Tok'ra even cared to keep track of the hour here on earth. Most likely not, he just hoped it wasn't Anise with some technology she wanted to dangle in front of them and lure them into helping her with an experiment.   
  
He was relieved when a single human male exited the wormhole and strode down the ramp. He took the steps down two at a time and was in the Gate room before the wormhole dissipated.   
  
"Jacob! I don't suppose you know it's 3 AM here?"  
  
"Nice to see you too, Jack. Uh, time couldn't be helped. What are you doing up and about if it's the middle of the night?"  
  
"Long story. I'm betting you didn't come here to check up on my nighttime activities."  
  
Jacob cast him a smirk. "No, I don't think so. You think George would be in a totally foul mood if we woke him? I really do have a good reason for being here." 


	2. Consequences pt2

Consequences Pt 2  
  
A few minutes later O'Neill and Jacob were in Hammond's office speaking with the General via the speaker on the phone. "So how long have you been out of contact with your people?"  
  
"Six hours. I know it may seem a little soon to be concerned but the Jaffa at that base keep to a rigid schedule. We are positive our operatives have been compromised."  
  
"So what do you need?"  
  
"Well other than an assault force, a ton of ammunition and a lot of luck- " He stopped when he heard a snort of the other end of the line. "All right, seriously, I know you can't spare that kind of manpower on short notice, it would be nice though. I actually did have something specific in mind." His eyes locked with O'Neill's across the desk. "George, I understand your 2IC has extensive Black Ops experience which I think could be extremely helpful under these circumstances. We are dealing with a minor Goa'uld who is one of the most paranoid I've ever come across. We need to get into the complex and I'm sure we're going to run into every kind of booby trap that's ever been conceived. We need someone with the instincts for dealing with this kind of thing. I thought Teal'c might be of help too."  
  
O'Neill nodded slightly then spoke into the speaker, "General, it's not like we've been doing much the past few days. You know how grouchy Teal'c gets when he's stuck in his quarters for too long."  
  
"Colonel, I'm hesitant to send only the two of you off, I'd rather have all of SG-1 together, and have back up."  
  
"Well, Daniel could go."  
  
Jacob's eyebrow went up at the obvious exclusion of his daughter. "And Sam?"  
  
"She's not here. Out of town, got a 'mission' of her own." O'Neill's face lost some of it's animation. "We'll be Okay without her." He turned back to the phone, "Sir, SG-14 is due to go out in less than four hours, if you weren't opposed to scrapping their mission-"  
  
Jacob was still thinking about where his daughter might have gone off to when Hammond's voice came across the speaker. "Colonel, you have a 'go', notify Major Collins their mission has been changed to search and rescue under your command."  
  
Jacob was pacing in the back and forth in the briefing room. In his mind this was taking too long. He didn't fault Hammond for not sending more troops but he really wanted to get going now that a course of action had been determined. He barely waited for everyone to be seated and O'Neill to begin the briefing before he spoke.  
  
"This mission is to recover Tok'ra hostages within a compound controlled by a contingent of Jaffa. The Goa'uld they serve is Paka'a, mean anything to you Daniel?"  
  
The archaeologist stroked his chin, "Well, that would be a minor god, maybe Polynesian, of the air or, more specifically, wind."  
  
"You're right." Jacob answered. He didn't see O'Neill turn to Daniel and mouth the word 'gas?' and Daniel's subsequent glare of exasperation.  
  
"And he is as changeable as the wind can be. He's one of the most paranoid we've ever dealt with. He keeps his Jaffa on a tight leash but he himself comes and goes on no set schedule whatsoever. We can only hope that he doesn't show up while we're there; if he did the number of Jaffa would be tripled."  
  
"What have you got on the compound?" O'Neill was ready to get straight to the planning stage. Jacob set a 3-D holographic imager on the table and turned it on.   
  
As it came to life revealing an image of the compound exterior, Jacob continued, "As you can see there are three entrance portals, here, here and here. The cells are in this wing so we'll need to go in here." He pointed to various spots on the image as he spoke.  
  
"And you don't think the actual presence of Jaffa will be the greatest threat?"  
  
"No, I don't. We have no operative on the inside, which puts us at a distinct disadvantage, but we know this Goa'uld is known for shoring up his forces in unconventional ways. We expect to run into a large number of traps and other obstacles but not that many guards."  
  
"Any idea at all about these booby traps?"  
  
Jacob smiled as he watched Teal'c's eyebrow rise. "Better than that, I brought one with me." With that he pulled a small orb out of his pocket and rolled it across the table to O'Neill. Just before it got to him it suddenly stopped by itself and split open to reveal a multitude of tiny darts inside just bristling to be released. "Holy- " O'Neill shouted as he jerked his hand back.  
  
"Don't worry this ones been disarmed."  
  
With his voice higher and louder than normal O'Neill responded, "Still looks a bit 'armed' to me!"  
  
Jacob reached out and flicked one of the bristles with his finger, "See, it's not going anywhere. But if it had been active, everyone in this room would be either unconscious or dead, depending on the chemical they used."  
  
Major Collins was seated beside O'Neill and gingerly reached past him to the device. He touched it, barely, and then slid it closer to their side of the table. "The tips look barbed, I bet they'd stick into anything with minimal force."  
  
"Yeah, just don't go testing one." Jacob cautioned. "It's been disabled but I won't guarantee all the chemical has been removed."  
  
Collins blew out a breath and with a grimace slid the object away and back to the center of the table.  
  
"Okay, so we'll run into some of these little dart blasters, what else?"  
  
"Not sure, he seems to like setting things off with motion detectors and lasers; that's why we haven't gotten in very far."  
  
"No problem." O'Neill nodded to the two ex-Special Forces members of SG-14. Both Collins and his 2IC, Williamson had been in Iraq as well as South America, lots of experience there. "We'll kit up with some 'extra' things we don't usually bring along." Collins nodded back, already making a list in his head of the small mirrors, wires, clips and assorted hardware he'd need. This mission might actually be fun; he hadn't done anything remotely like this in years.  
  
After a few more minutes of planning O'Neill dismissed the briefing, they would move out at 0700. As soon as he got out of his chair O'Neill grabbed Daniel by the arm, "Hold on, I got something I've got to talk to Collins about, wait for me a minute okay?" With that he turned and gestured to Collins to join him in Hammond's office.  
  
Daniel scowled, he just knew Jack was going to pull him off this mission, too dangerous for the archaeologist, let the big boys who know what they're doing take care of it. He slammed his folders back onto the table and flopped into a chair to await his dismissal.  
  
Collins emerged with a complete lack of expression on his face and went straight to the stairway, not even giving a nod in Daniel's direction.  
  
"Daniel." Jack was back in the briefing room leaning forward on the heavy table with both hands. "You understand this is turning out to be a highly specialized mission. I've decided to reduce our possible losses; you and-"  
  
"You're pulling me off the mission."  
  
"Not just you, all the non-military personnel."  
  
"You can't do that! I'm as able as anyone else! Just because I'm not Special Forces doesn't mean I can't handle a gun. I don't have to go in first; I can be back up. What if you run into this Paka'a?"  
  
"You speak Polynesian now?"  
  
"Well, no, but I know a lot about their culture."  
  
"I don't think that's going to help us this time."  
  
"I want to go." As their eyes remained locked O'Neill had a sneaking suspicion there was more to Daniel's request than he was letting on; it was something more personal, between them.  
  
"Daniel," He spoke slowly, "You're not feeling sorry for me are you?"  
  
"No!" He answered too quickly. "I'm part of the team, I should go."  
  
O'Neill lowered his eyes to the table then back up at the younger man; he knew what this was really about. Daniel had noticed how lost he was without Carter being around all the time and wanted to let him know the whole team wasn't breaking up because of it. "You should be glad I didn't 'order' Collins to drop his two civilians, I asked him to explain the mission in great detail to them and give them the option of sitting this one out. If it had been an order I would have to hold myself to the same."  
  
"You're gonna let me stay?"  
  
"Call it a moment of weakness." He shrugged then pointed at him. "But you will follow orders explicitly even if I tell you to go."  
  
He nodded quickly suddenly very much aware he was going to be in way over his head this time.  
  
Hammond showed up in time to have a few words with Jacob and wish them Godspeed. As expected Collins' two civilians had no stomach for Black Ops and did not even show in the Gate room when their companions left. The force Jacob recruited from the SGC turned out to be a five-man team: O'Neill, Teal'c, Collins, Williamson and Jackson.  
  
On the other side of the Gate, Jacob immediately dialed another site. They Gate-hopped one more time after that and emerged in the center of a large encampment. Though the Tok'ra living quarters were all underground, out of necessity for a place to harbor their small fleet and do some repairs tents had been set up as well. The scene was reminiscent of a temporary base often set up when the Air Force moved into an area where a landing strip was needed. Obviously General Carter had been busy explaining the finer points of military strategy to his compadres.  
  
O'Neill stopped at the top step just beyond the event horizon and adjusted his cap to shade his eyes better. "Jake, if I didn't know better I'd swear we were on earth, Arizona maybe."  
  
The older man chuckled, "You mean the Tel'tacs aren't a giveaway? My ship is over there." He pointed to a medium sized cargo ship off to the right of the main compound. "We'll be joined by two other smaller ships for a three sided attack wing."  
  
O'Neill nodded. If anything he rarely could argue with Jacob's tactics, the combination of Jacob's human military background and centuries of experience from Selmac made him a force to be reckoned with any day of the week.  
  
They didn't waste any time getting settled on Jacobs ship. They were glad they'd only brought what they could carry in packs; the hold was tight. Somehow Jacob had managed to get a glider in there.  
  
"I thought you said three?"  
  
"Well, three and a back up."  
  
"You didn't forego the escape pods did you?" O'Neill eyed the standard two seated craft.  
  
"They're here. Don't worry. " He patted the silvery blue wing of the glider, "This baby is only here so someone can go get help if we *do* go down."  
  
Within the hour they were on the way to Paka'as planet. Major Collins was already repacking his things after having pulled his entire pack apart to make sure nothing was missing. At first Daniel stayed back but the odd assortment of items intrigued him. He scooted closer and with no further prompting Collins began to explain what each device was and why they just *had* to have one for this mission. O'Neill smiled at the exchange, Collins had three sons, all of which doted on every word he said to them. It was almost a natural thing for him to take Daniel under his wing and explain the basics of surveillance and defeating someone else's surveillance.  
  
Jack joined Jacob in the control room, assured that Daniel was in good hands.  
  
"Have a seat, Jack. We'll be enroute for a few hours yet. Anything new back home?"  
  
He slid into the co-pilots seat and ran his finger over the console, careful to not activate any controls. "Oh, you know, same old same old."  
  
"So where's Sam?"  
  
Leave it to Jake to get right to the bare bones. "On vacation."  
  
"As in away from work? We are talking about my daughter here, right?"  
  
"She's, uh, expanded her interests lately."  
  
"As in?" Jacob wasn't going to let it go and the answer popped out of Jack's mouth before he could stop it. "Tony."  
  
Jacob just looked at him. He knew all to well how close his daughter was to her CO. Jack leaned back a bit further in the chair and clarified, now that he'd already stuck his foot in it. "His name is Tony. Ex-military, I don't know what branch, rides a Harley."  
  
"Not someone at the SGC? You know I didn't realize how much not being able to talk about stuff cut into our father-daughter relationship until I joined up, now I can't imagine being a part of all this and not talking about it. What the hell do they have in common; what do they talk about?"  
  
"Stuff I'm sure. Motorcycles, I don't know what else."  
  
"Well I for one cannot see Sam getting on with someone who is very far removed from the Stargate program. She's always loved her work, I can't see her leaving it behind."  
  
O'Neill looked down with almost a pout on his face. "Yeah." Unfortunately he could imagine it all too well. Not only was she leaving it behind, it was making her happy to boot.  
  
The planet was heavily forested which was a good thing and a bad thing. While it concealed their landing and would give them cover on the ground they had to set down much further away than was originally planned. It was decided to leave behind two men to guard the ships and alert the others of any problems. Daniel was sure he'd be chosen for this unglamorous task but two Tok'ra volunteered before it could be discussed.  
  
The crew from the second Tok'ra ship joined the humans as they made their way into the forest. Their entire ground force now consisted of five non-blended humans and four Tok'ra.  
  
The camp was a good ten-mile hike with no road or even a path in sight. Like good little soldiers they all hunkered down under their packs and walked it out. They took turns at point slashing through the brush occasionally and having to 'trail blaze.'  
  
Finally they arrived at a ridge overlooking the compound and lined up to view it. It was actually just a small base camp with only a few permanent structures. All around it were dozens of small tents. O'Neill turned to Jacob. "Visiting Jaffa?"  
  
"No, more likely this is the standard set up of this base. Paka'a likes to move his people on short notice; it pays them to be mobile. With his paranoia you can expect him to show up anywhere at any time."  
  
"Sweet. A delusional Goa'uld. Where do we go in?"  
  
They had landed at night and the sky was just now beginning to lighten a little. "We'd better get down there, according to our Intel, they'll change guards in less than an hour. Right after that will be or best opportunity to get inside."  
  
O'Neill glanced at Collins to verify he'd heard Jacob's words then motioned for the group to move out.  
  
Jacob's Intel was right on and they were able to quickly subdue the few guards much to everyone's relief.  
  
To get to the holding cells they'd need to move out the central part of the building and down one level. This Goa'uld was apparently one of the old school that still believed in dungeons. Once they were inside they were amazed at how much it looked like an old English castle back on earth. There were no inscriptions of any kind whatsoever on the walls; only a few heavy tapestries with golden threads woven into the designs belied the penchant for extravagance so common to the Goa'uld. For the most part the walls were simple gray stone polished smooth like glass.  
  
O'Neill and Jacob led the small party, pausing every several feet to listen. Even though they were careful to be quiet their own footfalls echoed back at them. At one point O'Neill stopped and glared back at one of the Tok'ra who was allowing a buckle on his belt to chink softly with every step he took. He sheepishly realized he'd been making the noise and quickly adjusted his clothing to silence it.  
  
There was a guard station at the main intersection manned by six Jaffa; not an overwhelming force but sure to make a racket if they were engaged. Collins motioned to O'Neill and gestured toward a secondary hallway. Jacob's Intel had shown a series of ventilation shafts, each with a huge fan providing airflow to the lower levels. They'd been able to hear the occasional soft whumping of the blades whenever they neared one. O'Neill moved closer to where Collins indicated and noticed there was no sound out of this particular shaft. The fan was either non functional or had been shut down for some other reason. They couldn't be certain it would stay off for long but it would be a better risk than facing the Jaffa.  
  
Collins produced a tiny quantity of C-4 barely the size of a pencil eraser and pressed it to the latch of the fan cover. Instead of detonating it in the usual way he pulled a simple alkaline battery out of his pocket with wires soldered at the terminals at each end. He held the wires a few inches back from the exposed ends and touched them together right over the little blob of explosive. It immediately ignited with a soft fizzle and in a moment a single 'chink' was heard as the latch gave way.  
  
As soon as Collins removed the grate one of the Tok'ra started to move in closer but O'Neill waved him back. This was just the kind of place he'd put a booby trap if he were in charge of security, an unlikely entry point that by sheer design was not easily monitored nor checked frequently by the guards.  
  
His instincts proved correct. He slid forward on his stomach and shone a flashlight beam down the shaft. When it revealed nothing he switched over to the red laser sight of his P-90 set on wide beam. When he swept it across the opening it immediately lit up two microscopically thin wires across the shaft only inches from the end of his weapon. He grimaced at how close he'd come to touching one. He turned the flashlight back on and scanned the walls for the wire attachments. There was most likely a current applied to the wires and interrupting it would set off an alarm.   
  
There was enough room that he really only needed to remove one of the wires. After locating both ends he attached a jumper wire to maintain the connection and then removed the original wire. The work went quickly as Collins had moved in closer and was handing O'Neill whatever he needed to complete the task. They were so precise they would have made a good surgical team.  
  
Once the barrier was breached O'Neill let Collins take point through the shaft. They let him get several feet on down then followed single file behind him. When he got to the fan blades he slid a makeshift stop block into place to hold the blades if the fan motor did start up. Hopefully the guards would think an animal had wandered into the shaft and blocked the blade.  
  
On the lower level Collins had to use a propane torch to cut through the latch from the inside. When it was done Teal'c slid past the others and assisted him to lower the grate to the floor without a sound.  
  
Once all of them were clear of the shaft Jacob motioned in the direction of the cells. He took one step but was stayed by O'Neill who then pointed out a slight recess in the wall at chest height.  
  
This time it was Williamson's turn to go first. He slid along with his back against the wall, crouching to keep himself low and stopped when he was just within reach of the recess. He glanced back at the others and seeing them ready, held his P-90 out and waved the muzzle across the opening. Immediately a long arrow shot out and lodged in the far wall.  
  
Williamson began to stand but O'Neill waved at him to hold fast. A moment later one of the Dart Blaster Balls popped out and landed in the center of the hallway. Without a moments hesitation O'Neill pulled off his vest and lunged toward the orb landing directly on top of it with his vest now folded on itself between his chest and the device.  
  
It detonated just as they expected but the darts found nothing but thick Kevlar in which to imbed themselves. O'Neill gingerly lifted one corner of the vest and peered beneath it to see at least sixty miniscule barbs poking out of his vest. He glanced back at Jacob and blew out a hard breath. Jacob had to smile, Jack wasn't making a sound or even moving his lips but it was obvious by the look in his eyes he was cursing to himself vehemently.  
  
He rolled off the vest and waved the others out of their hiding places. They continued their trek down the hall very slowly, looking out for any more traps along the way. The guard station on this level turned out to be manned by only two Jaffa so O'Neill decided it would be best to just take them out with Zats. Besides it was time to give Teal'c and Daniel something to do; they both were looking decidedly left out of the Special Ops stuff. He half whispered/half gestured what he wanted them to do and gave them the go-ahead when he was sure they understood. A moment later both Jaffa were unconscious on the ground.  
  
O'Neill nodded his approval then turned to Jacob. "Let's find your men."  
  
They spread out, each taking a block of cells and looked for the missing Tok'ra. Williamson was the one to give a short high-pitched whistle to alert the team he had found something.  
  
The cell was a typical castle dungeon with cold dank walls and the pervading smell of mold and decay; hopefully it was only from the rats that had crawled in then gotten trapped and died there.  
  
There were five Tok'ra, all in rough shape with torn and bloodied clothing. And though the symbiotes had been hard at work to heal their injuries the multitude of bruises was a clear indication of what they'd been through. All but one was conscious and sitting up leaning against the hard stone walls. They barely looked up when the heavy door creaked open to Jacob's hand.  
  
O'Neill and Collins were next in and stepped aside to allow the others entrance and to tend to the wounded. Teal'c stayed in the hallway to look out for any Jaffa that might come upon them unexpectedly.  
  
Selmac homed in on the one prone figure in the room and frowned when he knelt beside him and saw he was barely breathing. This one was the leader of the unit and as such was the most important one to survive and report back with what he had learned.  
  
After assessing the condition of the injured men and conferring with Jacob, O'Neill decided exiting via the shaft was no longer an option; they'd have to go out through the main hallway. Teal'c was given the task of carrying the unconscious man while the others were assisted to walk. That left O'Neill, Collins, Jacob and one of the Tok'ra to scout out their exit route and deal with any resistance they met along the way. The first task was to get past the heavily manned guard station on the main level.  
  
O'Neill decided a diversion was in order and dug two bricks of C-4 out of his pack. He and Collins went back to the vent shaft and climbed up to the main level. Once there they planted the explosive in a hallway opposite where they'd have to go to exit. O'Neill tapped his microphone switch twice to alert his teammates to get ready to move.  
  
When the C-4 went off it was as if an earthquake hit; the walls shook and shifted slightly allowing clouds of dust to fall from the ceiling. O'Neill and Collins had hidden in an alcove and stayed put until several Jaffa went past them then quickly moved out and down the hallway. By the time they met up with the others just arriving from the lower level Jacob and one of the Tok'ra had already moved ahead toward the exit.  
  
All but two of the Jaffa left to investigate the explosion and they were easily neutralized by Jacob and his cohort. Now they faced the harder task of getting out of the complex and into the forest.  
  
They paused just inside the exit to see just what they'd have to go through. Teal'c took the opportunity to rest a moment and lay the still unconscious Tok'ra on the ground. Jacob once again knelt at his side and checked his pulse. "Dammit, I knew we should have borrowed that healing device from the SGC, there were bound to be some severe injuries. Why didn't I think of it?"  
  
O'Neill heard him grouse and crouched beside him. "How bad?" Jacob already informed him that this particular Tok'ra was extremely valuable to their cause and *must* at all costs be returned home.  
  
"Bad enough." He noted the hesitant look that flashed across O'Neill's face and quickly added "Don't worry, Khalil can hold on for a while, we just need to get moving."  
  
"Right." O'Neill nodded. They decided to go with another diversion while the Jaffa were still trying to figure out what the first one was all about and radioed back to the ships. The Tok'ra were not eager to get into the line of fire with their small ships but when Jacob explained how badly their teammates were injured and the fact that ten miles might as well be ten thousand miles, they relented. The plan would be to strafe the area, set down quickly, get everyone aboard and get out. Unfortunately to expedite the escape they'd have to leave one of the ships behind, there wasn't time to ferry someone back to fly it out. Even more unfortunately it would have to be Jacobs larger ship. Luckily the Tok'ra had concealed the ships in case of an aerial patrol and the ship they'd have to leave behind was well hidden.  
  
A few minutes later on Jacob's mark the two scout ships came flying fast and low over the complex. The ships appearance took the Jaffa on the ground completely by surprise, first taking out several gliders and a cargo vessel then making a run on the main complex. As they lay down cover fire the path was cleared before them. Several of the Jaffa were able to get off blasts from their staff weapons but they were not powerful enough to penetrate the enhanced shields of the ships.  
  
O'Neill, Collins, Jacob and the other Tok'ra ran forward and took cover behind crates and water barrels out away from the building. They were far enough out that one of the ships could land right at the entrance and be able to be protected by their cover fire. As soon as the first one came down three of the injured Tok'ra were rushed aboard and it took off again in a cloud of dust and debris from the engines.  
  
As soon as the first ship was airborne the pilot moved off to a discrete distance and pivoted 180 degrees to be able to provide cover for the second ship.  
  
It was becoming difficult to see on the ground; the many staff weapon discharges had initiated a number of small fires throughout the compound and the air was thick with smoke and the acrid smell of charred wood and metal. The early morning sun barely cut through the haze.  
  
A dark shadowy shape descended almost exactly where the first ship had been. O'Neill squinted through the debris and saw it was the second scout. He turned his face away and cupped his hands over his mouth to amplify his voice. "Teal'c! Come now!"  
  
The big Jaffa was standing just inside the entry and stooped to pick up the unconscious man. He wondered if it was really worth the effort, surely this Tok'ra would die in transport if he wasn't dead already. He certainly felt like dead weight. He ducked a close blast and ran from the building; Daniel was just ahead of him helping the last injured man.  
  
Reinforcements arrived for the Jaffa troops and it seemed the staff weapon fire was becoming constant. When O'Neill saw them moving up with something that looked like a canon he spun around and shouted, "That's it! Move now! Jacob!"  
  
Jacob and the Tok'ra beside him were already moving toward the ship and O'Neill stood to join them.  
  
The moment he was out from behind his cover he felt it, the searing white-hot pain of an energy blast impacting his right flank. He went down on one knee with a grunt but caught himself before he fell all the way down. He knew if he went down he would not get up again. When he looked up Teal'c was paused at the hatch to the ship, the unconscious man still draped over his shoulder like a dead animal being brought home from a hunt.  
  
O'Neill could easily see the hesitation on the Jaffa's face; continue to move forward and save this most likely already dead man or drop him where he was and make a run for his friend.  
  
The colonel forced himself up and gave an encouraging nod back telling him it would be all right to go ahead, he'd be right there. In another moment Teal'c's large shadow disappeared into the ship.  
  
O'Neill was faltering, trying to move toward the ship but having to walk backwards so he could continue to cover himself the last few feet. The twisting of his torso made him grimace as the smoldering burn in his side tore open a bit further and he could feel something hot and wet tracking down his skin. Funny how there wasn't all that much pain just yet, the nerve endings had literally been burned off the worst part. He had the odd idea that he hadn't really been shot, shot *at*, but not shot.  
  
Suddenly the amount of flying debris seemed to triple and a wind whipped the nearby tent flaps wildly. When O'Neill took a second to glance over his shoulder at the ship he saw it was already a few feet off the ground. He had a moment of horror as he imagined them leaving without him but then the face and upper body of Teal'c appeared at the hatchway.  
  
"O'Neill!" Teal'c was leaning as far out as he dared extending one arm in O'Neill's direction.  
  
He was out of time and he knew it, he turned to face the ship and ran as fast as his injury allowed. His legs were still holding out at least and the adrenaline pumping in his veins was giving him the added strength and endurance he needed.  
  
Teal'c smiled as he felt O'Neill's arm lock with his and was met with a smile in return that suddenly faded as an energy blast hit the side of the ship and the Colonel was almost jerked out of his grip. With dismay Teal'c realized the blast didn't just hit the ship, something hit O'Neill too and slammed his body mercilessly against the metal plating. The arm that was not being held by Teal'c was smashed between body and metal and the already bleeding flank wound gushed forth leaving an imprint of spattered blood on the exterior of the ship.  
  
With one mighty heave Teal'c pulled O'Neill inside causing them both to sprawl out on the floor. At once the hatch snapped shut and the ship moved rapidly upward into the atmosphere.  
  
Suddenly the entire ship lurched and shook sending anything that wasn't tied down flying, unfortunately this included people. When the shuddering continued Jacob knew something was very wrong. He crawled his way forward to the pel'tac and immediately started checking over the controls and sensors. He murmured to himself when he could get no reading from the port stabilization array. After the third try he was miffed enough to go to the window and try to see visually if there was any damage. He was totally unprepared for what he saw; there was a large gaping hole in the side of the ship with flames and sparks spewing from it. The Jaffa's canon had left them no choice, they'd never make it out in space, they'd have to set down.  
  
It was an extremely bumpy ride requiring both Jacob and the pilot's full concentration to get the ship down in one piece. After several more minutes of feeling like they were in a blender the ship suddenly and completely became still as it contacted solid ground.  
  
By the time Jacob recovered enough to go to the back and check on the occupants most everyone was already up and trying to shake off the dizziness from the ride.  
  
Jacob's eye swept over the group and found the one he'd not yet seen conscious. He shook his head at the awkward way he was laying; he'd been tossed like a rag doll during the descent. It raised the ire in Jacob that no one had looked out for him.  
  
"Teal'c! You had charge of Khalil, how could you leave him like this?" Before the words were out of his mouth his eyes lowered to see what had captured the Jaffa's attention away from his charge. He was kneeling beside what looked like a pile of clothing pressing his bare hands against it. There was a trickle of bright red oozing from between his fingers. Jacob's eyes moved further and he noticed the tussled head of grey hair. Even with the face turned away he instantly knew who it was. "Oh, my God." He didn't even realize O'Neil had been hit. He raised a hand up for Teal'c to stay put and continue his ministrations while he tended to Khalil.  
  
The Tok'ra leader was barely alive, and for a symbiote that was saying something. The host had been tortured mercilessly and Khalil had come to the point of giving up on any kind of restoration. Nearly every internal system was failing. The kidneys had already shut down and he couldn't feel his legs at all. A swollen and discolored abdomen was a testament to massive internal bleeding from the rupture of his spleen. It was hopeless. His sole aim now was merely to keep the heart pumping and the lungs exchanging air. The rest was beyond his ability.  
  
After making sure Khalil at least looked comfortable and was straightened out, Jacob left his care to one of the other Tok'ra and went to see about Jack. Daniel was there with Teal'c now assessing the damage. One look at the young man's hooded eyes and the wet streaks down his face and Jacob knew it was bad.  
  
The amount of damage that had occurred in a relatively short time was amazing. More so was the fact that the Colonel was here at all and not tossed nameless in some mass grave back at the Paka'a's compound.  
  
Jacob spoke very quietly as if his voice might disturb the unconscious Colonel. "What are his injuries?"  
  
Daniel shuddered and lowered his eyes. "Staff blast right side, I think it hit an artery, there's an awful lot of bleeding. Right arm broken, probably in more than one place. At least two or three broken ribs, dislocated knee and I think a skull fracture. Who knows what kind of internal bleeding. But the worst-" His face twitched and Jacob wondered just how much more he could possibly add to the list.  
  
Jacob motioned to one of the Tok'ra who handed him a pack of medical supplies which he tore open and began assist Teal'c with the bleeding. Once the clothing had been moved out of the way the extent of the damage was more easily seen. The wound was large but not very deep except in one area where the blood was oozing out in a steady stream. One of the items in the med kit was a coagulant –soaked square of gauze and Jacob passed it to Teal'c to apply directly to the wound. A few minutes of direct pressure should seal the breach well enough until it could be dealt with later.  
  
  
  
"You were saying?"  
  
"He was hit by something maybe like a staff weapon but- " Daniel looked like he was going to throw up.   
  
Teal'c intervened. "The canon. A focused point energy weapon of great power. Although the point of impact was the hull of the ship O'Neill was close enough to be thrown against it and scorched by the intense heat. Also large pieces of plating were blown free and one of them impacted directly over O'Neill's back cutting deeply into his spine."  
  
"Shit." Jacob could do the math. Broken bones could be knit given time. Internal bleeding could be dealt with if it wasn't too severe. Even the staff blast wound would heal although it would likely leave a gargantuan scar. A spinal cord severed by shrapnel was something different. "Where?"  
  
"Just below the shoulder blades, center back."  
  
Jacob closed his eyes, even Selmac grieved. If, and that in itself was a big if, the Colonel lived, his legs would never serve him again. "Dammit, Jack."  
  
"Good to see you, too." The croaking voice shocked all three of them. How could he possibly be awake? 


	3. Consequences pt3

Consequences  
  
Part 3  
  
Daniel's knuckles turned white where he was unconsciously clutching at O'Neill's shirt. "Don't try to talk. You need to rest."  
  
"Rest? With you blabbering over me?" He coughed harshly several times and shuddered trying to keep himself from yelping from the pain. Amazingly it wasn't too bad, which he realized was a good indication that it was, in fact, very bad. Live nerve endings hurt, dead or missing ones did not.  
  
He didn't try to speak again for a minute or protest when Daniel began to fuss over him and wipe his mouth of the spittle from his cough. It was no surprise at all to see the cloth soaked with blood. Add bruised lungs to the list. Yes, he'd heard it.  
  
After what seemed like excessive cleaning to O'Neill, Jacob helped Daniel to raise him up a bit and offered a sip of water. "Don't swallow, just swish and spit. Get the blood out first then I'll give you more to drink."  
  
O'Neill nodded and did as he was told. He didn't realize how dry his mouth had become and getting rid the coppery taste of his own blood was almost a pleasant sensation. Unfortunately drinking while lying flat on one's back was not easily done and he coughed and sputtered when a few drops went down the wrong way. "Help me sit up."  
  
"That would be unwise, O'Neill."  
  
"So is drowning me. Against the wall, sit me up." His face was pale but he was still able to glare as well as ever.  
  
Reluctantly Daniel nodded. It took all three of them to move him since most of his body was dead weight, but soon they had him propped up and more or less supporting himself against the wall. The movement caused him excruciating pain and Daniel produced a syringe of morphine from his vest pocket. At first O'Neill waved it away but then nodded his approval. "Maybe just half, huh? I'd like to actually be awake for a little while." After the drug was given he reached out with the one limb that was still working and requested the water. He took a long drought and addressed Jacob. "We're on the ground, am I right?"   
  
"Yeah, we took a hit. We managed to set down pretty far from the base so I don't think we'll have company anytime soon. We do need to get out and camouflage the ship as much as possible in case a patrol swings by."  
  
"Daniel, Teal'c, that's your cue. Go see what you can do."  
  
The younger man bristled. "I'm not leaving you alone. You need help."  
  
O'Neill sighed; Daniel was just so 'Daniel' sometimes. "You know, I appreciate the sentiment but I don't think there's much more you can do for me. However if those Jaffa spot us no one will be leaving here alive. Go help them."  
  
Teal'c was already on his feet and leaned down to rest a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "We will return soon."  
  
Collins and two of the Tok'ra were already outside assessing the damage to the ship and figuring out what cover they had available. As Daniel exited the craft Collins stopped what he was doing and caught his eye. He'd seen enough of O'Neill's condition to know what to expect. The two men stared at each other for only a second but it was enough to pass information between them. O'Neill? Bad. Alive? Yes, barely. His face paled another shade at the sight of the blood on Daniel's clothing; he knew it wasn't his.  
  
Inside Jacob checked on all of the injured and was pleased to see none were worse for the abrupt landing. At least there was that. Khalil had actually managed to wake and verify the state of his host. He was himself injured as well and exhausted from the strain of providing total life support for the host body. It was doubtful he'd survive the trip home even if they were already on their way.  
  
Jacob returned to O'Neill's side and sat with his back against the wall beside him with his knees drawn up and arms resting on them.  
  
"I'm not gonna make it."  
  
'You're a resilient guy. We'll get you home." His eyes were staring off into space.  
  
"Jacob. Don't screw with me." O'Neill's voice was suddenly harsh and his eyes darkened. "I can't feel my legs." He glanced at the one foot that was lying awkwardly on its side due to his dislocated knee. "Hell, I can't feel more than half my body and I can barely move the little bit I *can* feel." He faltered for a moment then continued with an obvious catch in his voice, "I may be an irreverent ass most of the time but I'm not stupid. I just didn't think this would be my last mission."  
  
Jacob stiffened slightly but didn't turn to his companion. He could hear the fear in the Colonel's voice and couldn't bear to see it as well. "You know those couple of times you called me 'Dad'? I wasn't offended. In some ways you and I are closer than I am with my own son."  
  
"We're both military, been taught to think along the same lines."  
  
"Maybe. But I do think highly of you, despite the differences we've had. Being in here with Selmac has taught me some things about people and families and relationships." He paused then added quietly "Sam's gonna take it really hard."  
  
He would have chuckled if he could. "Sam? She's happy where she is. Didn't I tell you that?"  
  
"She doesn't have a clue. For all those brains my daughter can be a bit dense."  
  
Now he did chuckle and immediately regretted it as he coughed again and sputtered, making Jacob jump to pat him on the shoulder and wipe at his mouth with a cloth. "Thanks." The very idea of putting Carter in the same sentence with the word 'dense' was ridiculous.  
  
"You know the SGC won't ever be the same." Jacob stifled a grin. "Quieter maybe, but not the same."  
  
O'Neill realized this was coming uncomfortably close to a 'goodbye' speech and changed the subject. "What about your Tok'ra buddy? You said that guy is some bigwig back home, how's he doin'?"  
  
Jacob accepted the change in the direction of their conversation. "Not well, I'm afraid. I don't think he'll make it. Too bad, he's been around almost as long as Selmac, it will be a great loss."  
  
There was a short silence between them and O'Neill had to ask the question. "You're not gonna offer me the snake?"  
  
Jacob shook his head. "I know where you stand. It's your right. I don't hold anything against you for it."  
  
"He's awake?"  
  
"Yeah, a few minutes ago."  
  
"I'd like to meet him." Jacob shot him a questioning look. "See why it was so important for us to come out here in the first place. That's all."  
  
It proved to be easier to move Khalil than O'Neill, so after a few words passed between them and a look over toward the Tau'ri, Jacob and another of the Tok'ra moved Khalil over to where he and Jack could speak.  
  
"Colonel O'Neill, this is Khalil. The host is- was Tamar. He is so far gone he is already dead. The body is functioning but only at a bare minimum. He may not be able to talk much but he's agreed to accept your company while we work on finding a way out of this mess."  
  
O'Neill nodded as Jacob left then looked down at the prone man beside him. He was filthy of course from the conditions in the prison but the much of the dirt on his face was streaked clean where his tears had washed the grime away. As their eyes met O'Neill saw he was trying even now to blink back tears.  
  
"You're in a lot of pain. Sorry we didn't come sooner."  
  
Khalil shook his head very slightly and spoke surprisingly without the tone of a symbiote. "It is not the physical pain. I am able to block that."  
  
O'Neill was confused; he thought Jacob said the host was already dead. But why then was Khalil talking like his host? "Who am I talking to, Khalil or Tamar?"  
  
"Tamar is no more. I have not been able to contact his mind for some time now. I speak as he does because it is my custom to do so." He faltered and a few tears escaped his eyes. "He has a wonderfully rich voice does he not?"  
  
O'Neill nodded though it was hard to tell with the 'death rattle' that was there.  
  
Khalil sighed deeply and closed his eyes. "I tried so hard to save him. So hard." He shook with emotion as he spoke. "But I can do no more. I am dying myself. " He blew out another breath. "He was a wonderful friend; what will his family think? They were assured he would have a long and fulfilling life as a Tok'ra. I promised them and now he is gone."  
  
O'Neill was amazed to hear Khalil talk like this. It almost sounded like he loved his host. "But you still have his memories, right?" He tried not to think about his own impending fate and winced slightly. "What if you found another host?"  
  
If there was any hint of an offer there Khalil missed it. He shook his head. "Of all the hosts I've had none compares to Tamar. He wasn't just intelligent and dedicated; he made me laugh. He knew how to have fun."  
  
"Fun?"  
  
"Yes, he could always make me laugh. He had an odd sense of humor but I couldn't help but laugh. I think I laughed more with him than with all of my previous hosts."  
  
"So," O'Neill repeated himself, "if there *were* another available host?"  
  
"It is always preferable to live. It would give me a chance to see his family and tell them how bravely he died, and how much he was loved."  
  
O'Neill wondered to himself to a moment, 'love' wasn't a word he associated with the Tok'ra in any way; well maybe with Jolinar and Martouf. But this love between the snake and host? Khalil was talking about Tamar as if he were his son!  
  
"How did Tamar become your host in the first place?"  
  
"We worked together. I was with my previous host a long time; he was quite old when I met Tamar. When it was time Tamar requested to blend with me. We have only been together six years, but I have felt more alive during those years than ever before."  
  
O'Neill grimaced at the pain as well as the current direction of his thinking. "What do you know about us? The humans from Earth?"  
  
"You may have a host for me among them?"  
  
He stuttered a bit. "Uh, that would depend on the qualifications."  
  
"At this point they would be few."  
  
Jacob had returned and overheard some of their conversation. "Jack, are you even for a minute-"  
  
O'Neill shrugged at him wincing at the pain it caused in his arm. "Things change."  
  
"Holy Hannah!"   
  
Selmac was overjoyed but Jacob was still in shock. He never EVER thought Jack would do it again. Never! Selmac took over control and spoke. "You realize it may be too late even now, you are both so weak."  
  
"Well, its not like either of us has an overwhelming number of choices here is it?"  
  
Khalil looked at him suddenly comprehending what it was they were actually discussing. "O'Neill, I do not believe I could heal your injuries any more than I can help Tamar. It is taking all of my energy just to talk to you."  
  
"That's not what I had in mind. I'm not asking you to fix me; in fact I don't want you to. You need a way home and I'm in a position to do that for you, maybe buy you some time."  
  
He turned back to Jacob. "Look, I don't like having debts. What I did with Kanan was for my benefit and despite how badly it turned out-" He rolled his eyes upward. "I did get my life back, so I kinda owe you, the Tok'ra something. One thing though- when it's over I expect what's left to be returned to Earth. I'm not being buried on some back-ass water planet God knows where."  
  
Khalil nodded trying to take in all the information he was being given so quickly. He had a million questions. This man had been a host before? Why did he not know of this, and what then of Kanan? Why would he offer himself but only for a short while? What happened when he was blended before? He wished he knew more of this Kanan, but they were barely acquainted, their paths had so rarely crossed.   
  
Besides all of the questions Khalil had, it was a most odd proposition to deal with someone who honestly seemed to want nothing for himself. He found it quite sad and made his decision. "This arrangement is acceptable. I will try."  
  
O'Neill nodded in reply. "Ask Daniel and Teal'c to come in here would you?"  
  
They both knew something was up; they could see it in Jacob's face the moment they saw him.  
  
"What! I thought after Kanan- Jack I was there. I saw what that did to you, what happened."  
  
'Yeah, well I was there too, and yeah, it sucked. It's not the same situation this time; I'm not expecting anything except-" He stopped and glanced at Khalil, "that when it's over, it's over for good."  
  
Daniel's face fell and he bit his lower lip. "You're giving up aren't you?"  
  
The silence was more of an answer than O'Neill had intended and it struck home to all of them.  
  
"I'm staying." Daniel folded his arms across his chest; his voice was not harsh or demanding, just matter-of-fact.  
  
Teal'c glanced at the young man and struck a similar pose. "As will I."  
  
O'Neill wasn't up for an audience but he was too tired to care. "Fine."  
  
Jacob let Daniel and Teal'c move the Colonel to a side-lying position facing Khalil while he helped the Tok'ra turn to face his soon–to-be new host.  
  
Just as their eyes met mere inches away from each other O'Neill grimaced. He could suddenly recall the blending with Kanan and the taste of its slime in his mouth. "You guys have really *got* to come up with a better way of doing this."  
  
"Don't worry, I'm not going to kiss you."  
  
That thought was worse than the slime thing.   
  
"Just yawn or something."  
  
"Or *something*? How many times have you done this?"  
  
Khalil was getting a touch impatient, he'd already severed most of his connection with Tamar and was eager to complete the procedure. With one last supreme effort he forced the hosts hand to move and grasped O'Neill's broken arm.  
  
"Ow!"  
  
That was all the opportunity that was needed; Khalil jumped from Tamar into O'Neill's mouth in a flash.  
  
O'Neill reacted by coughing and sputtering as was expected but then suddenly grabbed his head with his left hand. "Oh God! My head!" He stifled several gasps of pain and rolled onto his back. "Shit! Jacob!"   
  
His eyes opened and he scanned the room for the elder Tok'ra. After another wave of excruciating pain he was able to talk. "Aren't I supposed to pass out or something?"  
  
Selmac answered. "Try to relax, Khalil is very weak; perhaps he is unable to overcome your reflex to resist."  
  
"I swear, I'm, not resisting! Oh God, my head's gonna explode!" With that he jerked to his side and began to thrash. When he rolled back the staff blast wound was bleeding bright red again and Daniel rushed to his side.  
  
Selmac tossed a package of gauze dressings to Daniel and called Teal'c over. "Hold him."  
  
Teal'c held O'Neill's body still and Selmac cradled his head in his hands as Daniel worked. The Colonel was still awake and in obvious pain but exhaustion was getting the better of him; at least he was a little more calm. Selmac gently wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. "I believe this blending will fail."  
  
Daniel frowned and looked at his friend. "So that's it?" Neither Selmac nor Teal'c spoke.  
  
After a bow of his head Jacob returned. "I know it's hard to accept but I doubt if Khalil is able to do anything at all; in fact it looks like he's made matters worse. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let them do it."  
  
Suddenly O'Neill stiffened his whole body and jerked his head back then went completely limp and unconscious.   
  
Inside his head O'Neill heard a soft voice. 'Be calm. I am here. Rest now.' The voice was strained but oddly reassuring. He was too tired to fight it anyway and fell into a deep sleep.  
  
"Is he dead?" Daniel said with a sob at the sight of the completely still figure. Jacob slid his fingers down and felt for a pulse. "Alive, but not by much. He's probably in a coma; too much damage to his brain."  
  
Jacob decided their best bet would be to head for his still hidden cargo ship. He estimated the distance at several miles but the forest was less dense here and he was sure they could do it in less than a day even with the injured slowing them down. Selmac debated the issue of moving O'Neill with the other Tok'ra and decided they would have to do it, waiting would probably only bring death anyway. A makeshift stretcher was put together and they set off with Teal'c and one of the Tok'ra carrying O'Neill and Daniel walking along beside them observing for any change in his condition.   
  
Almost a full day later they found the ship where they'd left it. Selmac had one of the Tok'ra launch the glider just ahead of their departure as both a scout and distraction in the event they were spotted. Under the cover of darkness they made their escape.  
  
The first stop would be the Tok'ra base and hopefully medical help for both O'Neill and Khalil. Unfortunately the Tok'ra physicians found no evidence of a blending, only the presence of a symbiote body. Since it seemed O'Neill wasn't healing any faster than he would on his own, which was barely at all, they determined Khalil was dead. Even the use of a healing device only stabilized O'Neill and had no effect on the symbiote. All they did was prolong the inevitable. Given O'Neill's grave injuries they decided it would kill him to remove the symbiote so they left it where it was to decompose. All they could do was return O'Neill to the Tau'ri for them to care for him until he died.  
  
A few days later at the SGC…  
  
Carter walked the long halls of the SGC swinging her bag and actually whistling, she had a great time while she was away. Tony's family turned out to be really quite nice, though not impressed by her status in the Air Force or anything else that even hinted that she had a brain. They *were* impressed that Tony had finally found himself a 'looker', and called her 'cutie' and 'babe' more times than she could count. She had an odd feeling of their idea of a perfect wife was the 'barefoot and pregnant' thing. Still, they were nice and she liked them.  
  
Her first clue that something might not be right was the look on Daniel's face when she almost ran into him. It wasn't just that he didn't seem glad to see her; he looked like he hadn't slept in a week.  
  
"Daniel, what is it?"  
  
"Sam, we- we had a mission while you were gone. You need to go talk to Hammond."  
  
Her eyes searched his for a clue. "Where's Colonel O'Neill?"  
  
When Daniel's eyes fell her feet were set in motion on their own. She literally stormed into Hammond's office, still carrying her bag and briefcase.  
  
"Major?" Hammond tried to keep his voice even, he knew she'd just gotten back and had no idea of recent events. Without waiting for her to start questioning him, he gestured to the chair. "Close the door. Please."  
  
She grimaced. This was going to be bad.  
  
The grimace turned to shock as the General related all he knew of the past several days. By the time he was done she was as pale as the papers littering his desk.  
  
It was an effort to go by her lab first but she did, though only to drop off her things. Something was bothering her perhaps even more than what Hammond had said, it was the *way* he said it. It had only been a few days and he certainly should have some faith in O'Neill's resiliency. She wondered if Hammond had left something out. The whole thing sounded like a nightmare. Rescue mission gone bad. O'Neill was hurt and somehow, unbelievably, became a host. Said symbiote dies, leaving said Colonel in worse shape than before. So why was Hammond acting like he'd never come back? Just how hurt was he?  
  
The first thing she sensed when she walked in the room was the presence of a Goa'uld. She had to shake herself to remember it was just the Naquadah in his blood, not a live symbiote. He didn't look all that bad considering, but then hospital sheets can cover a multitude of injuries. She did note the cast on his right arm and the way his pasty coloring made him almost disappear into the sheets. Not very much like the man she knew.  
  
She stood at the beside a long time just looking down at him and trying to understand how things could have gotten so messed up in such a short time. For Christ sakes she was only gone two weeks! She tried to ignore a growing niggling thought in the back of her mind that maybe, just maybe this all wouldn't have happened if she'd been there, with her team, with her CO.  
  
She jumped when a gentle hand touched her shoulder.  
  
"Sam, honey. I didn't know you were back. Why don't you sit down?"  
  
Carter turned into the sound of the voice and was met with the ever-present soft smile of her friend. Too late she blinked and a tear broke loose from her eye and she briskly wiped it away. "Janet, how did this happen? I mean General Hammond has told me all the details but this- "She gestured to the bed "How *could* this have happened?"  
  
"You probably know more than I do right now; all my information is related to his current physical condition, not how he got that way."  
  
"So he was blended again?"  
  
"Yes, apparently something went wrong at the very beginning. Your father was there, did the General tell you that?"  
  
Carter shook her head. If he did it was one of those pieces of information that gets lost when you're overwhelmed by too much input at one time.  
  
"Well he was. He said there was nothing they could do, that sometimes when symbiote and host are both ill or stressed, blendings fail."  
  
"Yeah, it was something Selmac said before she blended with my Dad, she told him it may not work because of them both being so weak."  
  
"Right. He said this was explained to the Colonel. He went into this with a full understanding of the possible consequences."  
  
Carter looked down suddenly to hide a sudden rush of emotion. She spoke quietly, "I'd really like to know *why* he did it. After what happened before I just can't believe he'd do it again to save himself. He barely agreed to the blending with Kanan and after how that turned out-" She crossed her arms in front of her chest and turned away, suddenly feeling the guilt for her part in the Colonel having to go through all he did.  
  
"I don't know, Jacob wasn't very specific about that, he only said both of them were very badly injured." She paused the said, "Sam, you should know this will be over soon. You can spend as much time with him as you like."  
  
"What do you mean? He's stable isn't he?"  
  
Frasier realized Hammond hadn't broken the really bad news; as usual it was left up to her. "Stable, yes, for a short time. They used a healing device on him to see if it could help the symbiote but it was too late, all they managed to do was temporarily stabilize the Colonel. He is still gravely ill and getting worse. The symbiote is still within him, Jacob said it would probably kill him straight away if they tried to remove it. Problem is, now it's decomposing and flooding his system with toxins that he can't handle right now considering his other injuries. It will soon shut him down completely. Even if it weren't there he'd die anyway." Her head dropped. "I'm sorry, Sam, there's nothing I can do."  
  
Carter took two steps back and when her knees hit the edge of a chair she immediately dropped to the seat. "He can't-"  
  
Frasier rushed to her and hugged the now heaving shoulders. "Shhh. I know."   
  
Sam sat by the bed listening to the almost musical soft beeping of the machines and watching the only movement, a slight rise and fall of the sheet every time the man before her took a shallow breath. Somewhere between nodding off and being wide awake with anticipation every time one of the machines changed it's rhythm she began to think again about her life and what she'd been missing. This time she missed out on something big. Add to that the guilt for not being there and you had the makings of a really, really deep regret.   
  
She was so tired of this re-evaluation of her priorities she was doing lately yet she couldn't help but let her mind wander here in this sterile little room with no projects or equations to occupy her mind. It was just after 1 AM when she realized she'd forgotten her date with Tony. She reprimanded herself for being so selfish; she should have cancelled when she realized she wouldn't be leaving the SGC that night.  
  
That thought struck her oddly. In fact she didn't know just when she'd *be* leaving. She glanced around the room and smiled at the people who'd joined her late night vigil. Daniel was asleep with his head resting on the foot of the bed and Teal'c, though she knew it wasn't Kel-no-reem, was seated in a cross-legged position with his back against the wall, breathing slowly and deeply. Even Janet was still there tonight working late since Cassie was at a sleepover with friends.  
  
God, she loved these people. She and Tony had discussed this very thing.  
  
She'd already recognized she needed to get back to some of her projects on hold in her lab and that she wasn't exactly being much of a 'friend' to her friends and needed to do something about it. Tony noticed she'd seemed a bit melancholy one afternoon and they'd had a long discussion about it. He wondered when she was going to start missing her friends and 'wimp' out on him. She was surprised to find he really didn't have a problem with easing off just a little. He was retired out of the military and only worked part-time now but it did require him to travel, something he'd been putting off since being with her. All they needed was a little coordination and she should be able to schedule time for work and her friends at the SGC and still see him on a regular basis when he was in town.  
  
  
  
Little did she know there was a crisis brewing and she'd need to set that plan in motion immediately. She let her eyes follow the lines of the sheet and stopped to gaze at the face of her CO. She felt a pinch in her heart. What had she been doing while he was infiltrating a Goa'uld base and getting himself nearly killed?  
  
Was it eating barbecue or was it the afternoon they went to the pool? She rubbed a hand over her face. Dammit. She should have been there for him.  
  
She shook herself internally, not for him, for the *team*. That thought caused another surge of guilt.   
  
Had she even considered Daniel or Teal'c might have been hurt too? She glanced back at them. They certainly looked healthy enough but she couldn't be certain. The second part of her guilt was that even now her foremost thought had been of the Colonel, like she was still tied to him in some way. Hadn't they decided to put that all behind them? So why was it bothering her now? He was a good friend and her CO and he was dying, so it was normal for her thoughts to dwell on him, right?  
  
Her shoulders slumped. Somehow she couldn't quite answer that question. Suddenly the nice, neat little package she'd wrapped her life up in was turned inside out. She put her head down on the side of the bed and let her tears flow silently. Whether it was due to guilt or the stress of the day it didn't matter. Suddenly she missed Tony very much.  
  
O'Neill made it through that night and the next and the next. The members of SG-1 settled into a routine, Frasier and her nurses herded everyone out in the mornings to bathe and do other personal care for the Colonel, Teal'c returned in the afternoon and Daniel in the evenings. Sam would stop by early just to check in then come back while Daniel was there, though not every night; when she did she'd stay quite late, more than once falling asleep with her head on the bed.   
  
Several days later Frasier was in General Hammond's office with a frown on her face. "Doctor I would never presume to tell you how to do your job but it is clear from these reports that what we thought would be over quickly could become quite drawn out."  
  
"Sir! This is Colonel O'Neill we are talking about! Just because he hasn't died yet-"  
  
"And he has stabilized in his current state. You said yourself there was so much brain damage from the skull fracture and the symbiote he may never come out of the coma. We need to consider long-term care, that's all I'm saying. Petersen Hospital would be well equipped to handle him. And no, I don't want to see this happen either; I just can't commit the resources of this facility to something that can and should be handled in another way. You've sent many patients there before; why are you so against this?"  
  
She didn't have an answer for him. Something was bothering her about O'Neill and the whole situation involving him. Part of her just couldn't give up on a good man but her gut told her she was missing something important. "Okay, yes, we don't know how long he may hold out; but for now he does still have the remnants of a symbiote within him. I insist he stay here until it is fully dissolved. All we'd need is for some yahoo-intern to decide to do a follow up CT scan and see it."  
  
"Granted." Hammond was so glad this encounter was over. "I'm not in a rush to send him off, but it will be better for everyone to get back to business. She nodded. Of course he was talking about SG-1 who'd been on stand down all this time. It was Hammond's intention to keep them there as long as O'Neill was on the base; he knew they'd never be able to keep their minds on a mission if he gave them one.  
  
Grateful for the reprieve, Frasier made a beeline to the infirmary to check on her patient. Sometimes it was therapeutic to her to go through the simple tasks of bedside care and she often assisted her nurses even with the 'little' things.  
  
This morning she checked O'Neill's vital signs and dutifully entered them into his chart supposedly to be reviewed by herself at a later time. When one of the nurses came in with a box of dressing change materials she decided to stay and help with that as well. The staff blast wound had healed minimally, it was so deep it should have required surgery and now given the circumstances she was reconsidering it. If he was going to be around a while she'd make damn sure she'd do what she could to help even a little piece of him improve.  
  
When she removed the dressing she got a shock. She had to double check to make sure this was the right spot. The skin beneath the bandage was pink and healthy; there wasn't even a scar. She only had to think about it for a minute and ordered a STAT ultrasound.  
  
She knew the ultrasound was far less accurate than either the CT or MRI but it was a lot faster than those other more involved tests. Besides, she could do it herself and not wait for a technician to get some preliminary results.   
  
Her eye caught something odd almost immediately, the symbiote had been slowly decreasing in size but in the image before her it looked like there were some tendrils in parts of his brain where they hadn't been before. Perhaps it was just the symbiote body breaking up as it was being absorbed. Suddenly she stopped and stared hard at the scanner. She saw something she would never have seen on one of the other tests- movement.  
  
She quickly ordered a full round of blood tests and an MRI. She didn't leave his side until he was moved into the room containing the magnetic imager and even then sat watching him from the observation area, twiddling a pen in her fingers with nervous energy.  
  
While waiting for the results to come in she lowered her head into her hands and closed her eyes for a moment. Could it possibly be what she suspected?  
  
She felt rather than heard someone enter the room and sit quietly beside her. Carter's voice was only a whisper. "I've been looking all over for you, they said something happened a little while ago. Is he- is it over?"  
  
Her voice was barely audible as she spoke the last few words. Frasier suddenly realized maybe she should be telling at least certain people what was going on- even if she wasn't sure just yet. She raised her head and smiled at the woman beside her. "No, honey. He's not worse. I'm not sure I'd call it better exactly."  
  
Carter shook her head, "What do you mean?"  
  
Frasier took her hands and spoke slowly and deliberately. "The symbiote is not dead."  
  
"It has to be. They said-"  
  
"I know what they said, but maybe it was in some kind of hibernation since it was too weak to do anything. And-" She looked the Major in the eyes, "I think it's trying to complete the blending."  
  
Carter didn't know if she should be horrified or thrilled. "Does General Hammond know?"  
  
"Nobody but us." The technician signaled the MRI was complete and Frasier stood. "I'm gonna look over those results then call the General. I'm pretty certain what it will show. You can stay if you like, they'll have him back in his room in a minute."  
  
Sam nodded still in shock then gazed through the glass at the body being wheeled out of the room. When he was back in the infirmary bed and settled she did as Janet suggested and went to sit with him. She tried to tell if there was any difference than what she felt before of the Naquadah in his blood, but there seemed to be no change.   
  
Inside the still body O'Neill was awake. He had been off and on for more than a day now. At first he was disturbed to realize he wasn't alone. He remembered Kanan vividly and this feeling was so similar it frightened him that it might be happening again. The only difference was that Kanan always seemed to keep a certain amount of distance between the two of them, Khalil did not; which in itself was a disconcerting feeling.  
  
When he first woke he felt as though he was a small child being rocked awake by his mother. Khalil spoke to him very gently and quietly, knowing how startling it can be to hear a voice inside one's own head. 'You are safe. You were injured badly but now you are healing. It will be some time before you will wake enough to open your eyes but it is all right, your friends are caring for you.'  
  
O'Neill slowly remembered what happened. 'Khalil?'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'How long?'  
  
'Many weeks.'  
  
That response forced O'Neill to cringe. 'It wasn't supposed to be this way. That wasn't our deal.'  
  
'I know.'  
  
With the unexpected openness of the symbiotes mind O'Neill knew instantly what Khalil was feeling; remorse for subjecting this human to something he knew he did not really want, and shame for giving in to the desperation to save himself.   
  
'The blending almost failed. The damage to your spinal column caused a loss of cerebral spinal fluid, which I require to live. That is why it was so painful at first; I was unaware of that injury. I know you did not want any 'repairs' but I was forced to accomplish that one or die immediately. It was the only injury from which you had no hope of recovery and I knew if I repaired it you would survive, though you would not be whole as you once were. That was also not our 'deal.' Afterward I was so weakened I was near death; I put myself into an extended state of dormancy in which to heal myself first. Then when I was able I began to work on you. Forgive me, but I could not leave you in this condition. After what you have done for me. As you say, I owed you.'  
  
This was a lot of information to process. O'Neill expected to be dead, as in 'dead' from his injuries, but instead he was- where? In the SGC and apparently, under the care of Frasier and her staff.  
  
'Don't think I don't appreciate this but-'  
  
'When you are healed I will leave.'  
  
The idea of going back to work at the SGC was not entirely pleasant. Who knew what changes there had been? How long was he gone anyway? 'Many weeks' could mean anything. Was SG-1 even a team anymore? He felt a sudden wave of sorrow when he remembered where Carter was during the rescue mission. Maybe there wasn't any reason for him to go back anymore.  
  
O'Neill stopped himself and thought about it. For the first time he considered what it might be like to be someone, something different. Someone who could make more of a difference against the Goa'uld without the constraints of his obligations back home. If he had a family, or even just someone to go home to, it might be different, still, it was a snake and a deal's a deal.  
  
O'Neill felt the sadness of the symbiote and spoke to him. 'You've got to realize I've been just me for a long time, I'm used to saying what I think and I'm used to being pretty straightforward.' He paused for a long time. 'I do understand the potential advantages.'  
  
He suddenly sensed a ray of hope in the symbiote. 'Are many of you so easy to read?'  
  
Khalil relaxed a bit. 'No, I don't think even Selmac is as open as I am. It is something that has worked well for me, if it upsets you I can increase the barrier between us.'  
  
'No, don't. I just need to get used to it. Why do you do it?'  
  
'I owe my life to you. Besides it would be so much more pleasant if we were friends as well as co-inhabitants.'  
  
A little flag of mistrust went up in O'Neill's mind. 'Honey and vinegar.'  
  
Khalil paused a moment to glean additional information from O'Neill's mind. 'Yes, perhaps.'  
  
'So you're not really that different, not even from the Goa'uld.'  
  
O'Neill felt the hurt hit Khalil like a knife and instantly regretted his statement. 'Sorry, it just seems…'  
  
'I know. I am what I am. A parasite. But I can choose to not be that parasitical today. If the wall stays down there can be a true symbiosis with both partners reaping the rewards.'  
  
O'Neill was suddenly inundated with images and feelings of Khalil and his last host Tamar. He was awe-struck, they were almost one being they were so close and cared for each other so much. When they switched control of the body there was almost no outward sign of it the transition was so smooth, and Khalil rarely ever spoke with the timbre of a symbiote, preferring the sound of the host's voice to his own.  
  
'Be aware there are dark places within me, I will not hide these if you choose to look there.'  
  
'I'm not all hearts and flowers myself. I guess its fair you should know what you've gotten yourself into.'  
  
Khalil noticed the pun and wondered how intentional it had been. In an instant he knew it was and smiled; humor, he loved it; could it be he'd found another human with a penchant for it?  
  
O'Neill felt Khalil moving closer to him and forced himself to not react. He let his mind momentarily drift across his past; fleeting images of growing up and joining the Air Force; the first time he flew a plane, his marriage to Sarah and the birth of Charlie and all the good times they'd had before the military took it's toll on him. The images degraded to the torture at the hands of Baal first then back to the prison in Iraq and the numerous Black Ops he'd been involved in. Finally he recalled Charlie and the mixture of sadness and elation he felt whenever he thought about him. He didn't dwell on any one thing for long.  
  
Khalil shrank back from the horrors this human had lived through. The feelings of Charlie were so extreme, such a mixture of good times and bad. He silently requested to see more of the good. O'Neill complied with many memories of baseball and hockey games, cuddling on the couch and watching TV. Then there were the early years of his marriage to Sarah when they were still giddy in love with each other. There was something more in this area of O'Neill's heart, much more subtle yet just as intense, Khalil recognized the face of Jacob's daughter.  
  
'Don't go there.' O'Neill warned.  
  
'Why? You love her.'  
  
'I can't.' The regulations and all the possible consequences flooded his mind momentarily making Khalil pull back again.  
  
'Duty before self? You are much more noble than you believe. I will-' He paused, 'leave it, in the room as you wish.'  
  
'Actually, no I'm not.' The conversation he'd had with Carter regarding Tony flashed through his mind. 'I'm not sure I want to go back and face that.'  
  
An eyebrow on O'Neill's face twitched in response to Khalil. He knew this could be a defining moment in O'Neill's decision to remain together with him. Still the man deserved to know. 'Are you certain?'  
  
'What? That I'm not keen on the idea of torturing myself daily by working with someone whom I care about but who does not return those feelings?' He figured he might as well lay it all on the line, Khalil knew it anyway.  
  
'Are we talking about the same woman?'  
  
'What kind of stupid question-'  
  
'This one?'   
  
In the infirmary the body in the bed was still deep in a coma, but suddenly his eyelids fluttered and for just a split second he opened his eyes. And looked straight at Carter. 


	4. Consequences pt4

Consequences  
  
PT4  
  
"I swear Janet, he opened his eyes! He looked at me and he recognized me. I'm sure of it."  
  
"Sam, I don't think you should get your hopes up. Even if the symbiote is working on him, he's not just going to sit up and say 'hi' then go back into the coma. If, when he wakes up it will be slowly, a little bit at a time. I'll tell you what. let's put him on the EEG and see. Since the symbiote is alive there should be two distinct brain wave patterns. It will give us a good idea of how well Colonel O'Neill is doing."  
  
Carter waited with growing anticipation for the Doctor to set up the device and attach the electrodes to O'Neill's head. As soon as she finished she flipped a switch and the screen lit up with a jumble of brightly colored squiggles. In a moment Frasier had the images separated and on two different screens. "Here, this one must be O'Neill." She pointed to the lesser tracing. "You see how the height of the waves never goes above this point? That's a clear indication of coma. Actually he does have a fair amount of activity, if this continues I'd say he's got a pretty good chance of coming out of it."  
  
Carters face lit up. For a moment she completely forgot about the second brain wave pattern and what it's presence meant.  
  
O'Neill was incensed. 'I thought you said it would be a while before I could open my eyes?'  
  
'That is correct.'  
  
When O'Neill responded with only a flash of raw anger Khalil continued. 'Your mind is currently unable to connect with your physical body, however, it is not beyond my capabilities.'  
  
'You mean get up and walk around?'  
  
'I could, but I would not do that. It would be-' He searched for the right word. 'Disrespectful.'  
  
'Thank God for small favors. Promise you'll never go running off with me when I'm not looking. Now, why did I just see Carter?'  
  
'She has been here a great deal; shed tears right here on your bed. I thought you should know.'  
  
'Oh.' The idea of Carter crying on his bed was unsettling. 'She's been here a lot?'  
  
'She comes and goes. Several times she has stayed all night.'  
  
O'Neill thought of Tony only for a split second then decided a change of subject was in order. 'So what do I do to wake up?'  
  
Khalil smiled. 'Just rest. It will be soon.' O'Neill felt as though something warm enveloped him; in a moment he was asleep.  
  
Two days later the eyelids fluttered again, this time at the behest of their original owner. Slowly O'Neill opened his eyes and squinted at he bright light above him. Why the hell did they always have to do that?  
  
Immediately the light dimmed and he saw the cheerful face of Doctor Frasier smiling back at him. "Colonel? There you are! Decided to join us did you?"  
  
He could barely nod but the slight effort was enough to make her grin broaden. "It's Okay. You don't have to talk. Want to try some water?"  
  
He nodded again and she brought a cup to his lips. She knew a straw would be too much for him right now and so she tilted the half-full cup into his mouth with one hand and slightly lifted his head with the other. The feel of the cool liquid going down his throat was wonderful after so long with only his own meager saliva for lubrication. She let him drain the cup before settling his head back on the pillow. "Thanks."  
  
"I did say something about not talking."  
  
"Said I didn't *have* to." He mumbled.  
  
"I stand corrected. Your throat probably feels a little scratchy. It's not just the dryness; I've resorted to feeding you through a tube. That's what you feel in the back of your throat."  
  
"Hmm." Strange sensation. Don't remember ever having that done before. Get a new T-shirt.  
  
Inside, Khalil gave a slight indication that he had a question. O'Neill's comprehension and response was immediate. He explained using a flash of images. Going on vacation. Racks of brightly colored T-shirts, most with outrageous graphics designs in some way depicting an aspect of the location or an event. Wearing the T-shirt later and being pleasantly reminded of the 'vacation'.   
  
Khalil nodded with only minimal understanding before he was shown Ferretti jesting about a nearly failed mission. "Been there, done that, got the T-shirt."  
  
He nodded again. This brand of humor was interesting to say the least. He understood sarcasm but never realized how easily it could be used to convey humor or even pain and make a point at the same time. This human was obviously a master at it.  
  
"Colonel?" Frasier was leaning in closer to him, looking concerned. "Are you all right? How are you feeling?"   
  
"Peachy."  
  
She cocked an eyebrow and squinted one eye at him. For a moment there he looked like he was a million miles away. Frasier wasn't naïve where the symbiote was concerned, she was fully aware of its presence; she just wasn't quite ready to address that issue yet. "We've got a few housekeeping things to do and I'd like you to stay awake for as long as you can. I'll call General Hammond and tell him you're awake and Teal'c should be around any minute now."  
  
He reached out and touched her arm before she turned away. "Carter?"  
  
Frasier looked down momentarily. "She'll be here later, I'm sure."  
  
She immediately rang the General's office and gave him the news. O'Neill could hear her side of the conversation.  
  
"Yes, Sir. As far as I can tell they're both doing well though I haven't spoken to-"  
  
"All right. You'll get no arguments from me there, I'd just as soon not deal with that on my own anyway."  
  
"Yes, they're here. He's had constant monitoring since I first contacted you." O'Neill's eyes slid from one side of the room to the other. SF's, two big ones, had to be Marines. What did they think he was going to do, attack Frasier and take over the base?  
  
The thoughts were actually a combination of his own and Khalil's, but then O'Neill added his own footnote. 'It's a normal, prudent precaution. I'd order it myself if they weren't here.'  
  
'You don't trust me.'  
  
'Not yet. We're used to a lot of security and protocols down here; it's up to you to prove it's not necessary.'  
  
An hour later Frasier had removed all the tubes except a single IV and both Teal'c and Daniel were fussing over him; both were a bit restrained considering the amount of time that passed and all that had occurred, but they were still able to recall in great detail seeing Khalil enter his body. He seemed so normal to them, yet they new better.  
  
After several minutes Daniel couldn't hold back his curiosity. "How's your, um, passenger?"  
  
"Fine. Really better than me right now."  
  
"You are not under duress?" Teal'c got right to the point.  
  
"From him? Nah. Apparently we were both in pretty bad shape he's still busy working on repairs." He raised his voice slightly, "Frasier *could* however get this cast off me, it's not necessary anymore."  
  
She raised her head up from her desk and glared at him. "I'll be the judge of that. We'll do another x-ray later this afternoon. Soon enough, Colonel?"  
  
He shrugged at the barb and turned back to Daniel just as General Hammond entered the room.  
  
"Colonel, good to see you up. You cut this one a little close."  
  
"Irish luck can't hold out forever, I guess I was due."  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
"Fine." This was getting monotonous.   
  
Hammond took a breath and frowned. "How is, the uh-"  
  
O'Neill glowered at him. He couldn't believe Jacob hadn't told anyone the symbiotes name. It was like he had a disease, not a living breathing, well kinda, other being inside him. "Snake? His name is Khalil, and he's *fine* too."  
  
The General's eyes softened a little, allowing his non-military persona to come through. "Of course. Khalil is it? I don't know if you are aware of it but when you were returned to us we were told the symbiote was dead. You were knocking at death's door yourself; so as you can see we're quite surprised this is happening."  
  
"No more than I am, believe me."   
  
"Yes, Jacob told me the original plan. Can't say I would have approved it, but here we are." He paused and lowered his eyes for a moment then looked back at the Colonel. "Jack, I need to talk to Khalil."  
  
It suddenly dawned on O'Neill this would be a first. Even with his previous 'possessions' he'd never relinquished control while conscious. His eyes fell and he answered with a less than confident, "Sure."  
  
At once he felt Khalil's presence strengthen but the symbiote did not attempt to override O'Neill's control. Instead there was simply a feeling of warmth and relaxation.  
  
'Are we gonna do that weird head nod thing?' O'Neill asked.  
  
He felt the symbiote's amusement, 'It does not have to be so. Just close you eyes and relax. Then expect to feel your eyes open without doing it yourself. It is the first step to a smooth transition. Remember what I showed you with Tamar.'  
  
Internally O'Neill accepted Khalil's challenge. Their relationship was very different from the one Khalil had with his previous host but having access to those memories helped. He glanced at his team then back at Hammond and slowly closed his eyes.  
  
A moment later those eyes opened unbidden by O'Neill. It was so odd to see through them but not control where he looked. Like suddenly his whole body was on autopilot, every movement being done without thought. At least *his* thought. The experience reminded him of someone sleepwalking.  
  
"General Hammond, it is an honor."  
  
Hammond knit his brow and let his mouth drop open slightly. He glanced at Daniel then Teal'c and back to his 2IC. He didn't know what to think; there was no head bow, no unusual depth to the voice and most certainly no flash in the eyes. The man had simply blinked. The only possible giveaway was a slight change in the facial expression.   
  
"Am I speaking to Khalil?"  
  
"You are."  
  
"Jack, is this some kind of joke?" Daniel interrupted.  
  
"I am not attempting to engage in humor at this time."  
  
Daniel shook his head and blew out a breath from his cheeks, "That's not Jack."  
  
"Excuse me," Hammond said, "we're used to having a little more outward sign; are you sure?"  
  
Irritation rose like a flood in Khalil. He internally muttered a quick 'forgive me' to his host then squared his shoulders and glared at the General. As his anger swelled his eyes flashed momentarily. He answered with the full strength of his combined voice, "I am sure."  
  
Immediately he calmed himself and let his wrath go. He returned to his previous state and used the softer voice of O'Neill when he spoke again. "I dislike intimidation. I would prefer you not ask me to do that again."  
  
Sufficiently chastised Hammond nodded his head. He took a moment to recover from the shock of seeing the instantaneous transformation. "As you wish. I've taken the liberty of contacting the Tok'ra regarding your resurrection as it were. They're sending someone out as soon as they can. They are quite anxious to have you back."  
  
"The intelligence I was able to obtain was less than we'd hoped, and as all these weeks have passed much of its relevance may be negated by now. I can only hope I can still be of service to my people."  
  
"I'm sure it's not just the Intel they're interested in. Jacob told me how important you are to them."  
  
"Perhaps, but the mission, a mission under my command, was a failure. It is something I do not take lightly."  
  
Hammond nodded his understanding. "Until the Tok'ra representative gets here I'd like you to stay in the infirmary. I'm sure the good Doctor isn't through with you anyway and it would be best for all concerned."  
  
"I assure you I pose no security risk."  
  
Hammond had already turned to leave, suddenly uncomfortable in the presence of his 2IC. He stopped a moment and spoke over his shoulder. "Sir, right now you are unknown and therefore your very presence here is a risk. Until you are debriefed to my satisfaction that is how it has to be. I don't suppose I can order you to cooperate, but unless more has changed than I know, I can still order your host if need be."  
  
Khalil sat back and watched the General leave. "I suppose you would like to speak with O'Neill now."  
  
Daniel shook his head, "Not necessarily, I mean if Jack's okay with it, you could stay a while. Anything you'd like to talk about?"  
  
"Yes. Where is Major Carter?"  
  
"She's, um, she's off the base right now, why?"  
  
Khalil lied. "I understand she is working with Naquadria, I'd like to discuss the instability problem with her."  
  
Hours later the Tok'ra representative showed up. Hammond was pleased to see Jacob return. "This is getting to be a habit, Jacob." He drawled out as he grasped his friend's hand.  
  
"Don't I know it? Happier circumstances this time, huh? Let's go see our boy."  
  
While they were waiting for Jacob's arrival Frasier had removed the cast and allowed the Colonel to change clothes. He was escorted to the briefing room and walked in looking like the same Jack O'Neill who had entered that room a hundred times before.  
  
The briefing went quickly and Jacob had to agree with Khalil, the information was less than they'd hoped. Still they'd find a way to make good use of it. The next order of business was what to do about the blending.  
  
"Of course we are prepared to separate host and symbiote. We do not currently have an available host so it will require a period of stasis."  
  
Khalil was not pleased at all, in fact the mere thought of stasis made him cringe. "I understand. I will defer to the wishes of O'Neill as our initial bargain has become complicated. I have already asked too much of him." With that he closed his eyes firmly and relinquished control to O'Neill.  
  
The Colonel resumed his place blinking several times as if startled. "Whoa, he's not happy. Jake you're not really gonna put him in a tank are you?"  
  
"There isn't much choice, you're not going to keep him." Suddenly Jacob noted that same look in O'Neill's eye he saw back on Paka'as planet. "Or are you?"  
  
Hammond was taken aback. "Jacob?"  
  
Jacob ignored the other General and said to O'Neill. "It may only be a matter of days, but it will likely be much longer. Also you should know the longer a symbiote is blended with a particular host, the stronger the connection becomes."  
  
"You mean we could both die if we separate?" O'Neill lowered his eyes and pressed his lips together. "Isn't that always a possibility? I don't want to see him put in stasis. He has some pretty bad memories of it and I can relate since I've been 'frozen' myself."  
  
Hammond was surprised to say the least, "Colonel, am I hearing you right? Are you considering this even though it would likely be permanent?"  
  
"Let's just say it's on the table."  
  
"It would take you away from here, from SG-1."  
  
"Why? The Tok'ra have their human ambassador in Jacob. Why shouldn't we have a Tok'ra ambassador here?"  
  
Both Generals stared back at him without an answer. Hammond spoke first. "You've been giving this some thought haven't you? I'll have to get with the president before any decision like that could be even considered. You do have a point though, but I don't know how it would work out."  
  
"Me neither. And I'm not saying that's what I want to do, not yet."  
  
"Maybe a trial period?" Jacob suggested. "We'll keep looking for a replacement host and as long as it doesn't take too long the option will remain open. What does Khalil think?"  
  
O'Neill smiled lopsidedly, "Oh, he likes the idea; anything's better than being put on ice I guess. He's happy as a clam in here." On hearing the word 'ambassador' Khalil had literally wiggled with excitement.  
  
With a little hesitation on the part of the Joint Chiefs the plan was approved. O'Neill could serve in his usual place as commander of SG-1 pending permanent placement of Khalil. The deciding factor was that the blending was complete and as such all O'Neill's knowledge was already compromised. Besides that, one Air Force officer was currently in the service of aliens via Jacob Carter; no one wanted to make it two. The only stipulation was no first contact or front line missions. O'Neill didn't like the idea of being on 'cake' runs for two weeks but he accepted their conditions. All he needed was an 'Okay' from Frasier to return to work.  
  
Sam Carter stalked through the halls of the SGC fuming at herself. She couldn't believe it. She *missed it* again. Not only was the Colonel awake, he was up walking around, talking and apparently being reinstated to active duty and command of SG-1 as soon as he was cleared medically. How could this happen in less than eight hours? All she really did was go home and relax a little while, take a bath and go out to dinner for crying out loud!  
  
Her pace increased as she neared his office where she was told he'd be. She blew through the door and stopped short. No Colonel. She was about to leave when she noticed a piece of paper stuck to his computer screen. 'Daniel, if you're reading this I'm not here. Went to find Carter. Catch you later.'  
  
She humphed to herself, where would he go? Only one place; her lab was in dire jeopardy.  
  
She was there in three minutes but forced herself to stop a moment just outside the door to calm herself; no point in blowing into her own space like some damn tornado. She walked in with an air of much more dignity than she was feeling and was greeted by a huge grin from her CO.  
  
"Carter! Where've you been?"  
  
"Sir! It's good to have you back." She hesitated when she noticed he was holding one of her projects. The device had been in pieces on her lab bench for almost six months; she'd all but given up hope of ever reassembling it. Only now here it was- whole, and if the blinking lights were any indication, functioning!  
  
Her hand moved toward it involuntarily. "How did you do that?"  
  
As their eyes met she felt it, the presence of a symbiote. Before he could answer he noticed the color begin to drain from her face and he knew what she was feeling. He reached out a hand in her direction, not to touch her but only reassure. "It's Okay, I'm still me. That's one thing you were right about all this time, the Tok'ra really are different, I'm totally without his influence." He smiled and held up the device, "Well, mostly, I actually understand your toys now. Okay, *he* put it together but I helped."  
  
She moved to her chair and sat in it quickly before her knees gave out. "So you and-"  
  
"Khalil."  
  
Her face fell. "I'm sorry. I should have been there, on the mission, there might have been something I could have done."  
  
"Don't bet on it. It was close for all of us." He returned the device to the tabletop.  
  
"But what you had to do. I know how you feel about the Tok'ra."  
  
"Felt." He corrected her. "And I didn't 'have' to do it. It was my decision to render assistance to Khalil as an ally in distress. The fact that I'm not dead now is just a sort of side effect."  
  
"A side effect." She echoed his words with a tone of disbelief.  
  
"Yeah." He shrugged. "But I plan to make the most of it. With any luck Frasier will clear me in a day or so and voila, I'm back."  
  
"What about Khalil? You aren't seriously thinking of keeping him?"  
  
"Why does everyone keep asking that? He's not a dog, you know. To be truthful, I don't know. For right now he's nowhere else to go and now that I have my life back I'm not going to sit around and wait until the Tok'ra sign up a new host. Khalil can learn stuff from me and I can from him while he's here and in the meantime SG-1 is back on the mission rotation." He paused and noticed her expression was clouded.  
  
"Sorry, Carter." He slid off the stool and stepped toward her. "I didn't mean to rant. I came here to talk to you about a couple things. First, I'm sorry for getting so creeped out over the Jolinar thing. I've had to take a hard look at that, as you might have guessed. Thing is, the Tok'ra are just trying to survive like we are. They've been on the run for so long they've gotten paranoid, but they're making it." He absently ran his index finger along the edge of the table. "I still think they're arrogant sons of bitches, but I realized I've been making too many generalizations. If they were an enemy that could have been a fatal mistake."  
  
"You don't trust them."  
  
"No, but then who ever completely trusts their allies?" There was a short silence between them then he shrugged and added "I like them better than the Russians."  
  
Her frown wavered then cracked into a smile. She lowered her head and fought to keep it from becoming a full-fledged grin. "I'm sure you do, Sir." She shook her head slightly thinking how much she'd missed his humor. "The second thing?"  
  
He looked down at the floor suddenly interested in something there. "Just thanks." He winced and raised his head to face her. "For being there. I was out of it pretty much the whole time, Khalil wasn't." He sensed her stiffen slightly and quickly decided this wasn't the time for mush. "I mean all of you, the team. Hammond told me you've been on stand down since I got here. One of you was with me all the time. You know he wanted to ship me off to Peterson just to get you guys back to work?"  
  
She shook her head. "I'm glad he didn't do that." She was silent for a moment then added, "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up."  
  
He straightened his shoulders and took a breath before answering. "You were there…enough."  
  
Her head rose and when she found her eyes locked with his, she jerked herself away. She could feel the heat rising in her face. He knew. How much of the time had Khalil been aware of her presence there? How many times did he see her sneak in late and grieve in the realization that with all her technical expertise there was nothing she could do to help him. The one time she wasn't there her CO had gotten himself into a situation that was a clear dead end. Dead being the operative word. As the days wore on she'd stayed with him less and less as the guilt ate at her. The only time she was free of it was when she was away from the mountain, which in itself created more guilt of a different kind.  
  
He spoke again, breaking her train of thought. "So, you up for a mission soon?"  
  
She smiled and nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "Any idea what it will be?"  
  
"Cake run. Follow up a first contact SG-4 made a couple weeks ago. P9K 885. Agrarian culture, the usual trees and other flora; we'll meet with some guy named Melisma and do a little trading of medical supplies for samples of their crops. Frasier thought the first samples brought back had potential."  
  
Carter was amazed. She'd recently read over a report on this very planet and for once her CO had all the facts straight. He even pronounced the contact persons name right. Unbelievable. She answered purely out of habit. "Yes, Sir."  
  
He slapped his palm on the table. "Good. Assuming I'll be out on good behavior we'll do a pre-mission briefing day after tomorrow. Be ready."  
  
With that he turned on his heel and strode out of the lab leaving a stunned 2IC in his wake. He was so normal, but then again not really; she didn't know what to make of it. One thing for sure, she missed him, she didn't realize how much until now.  
  
Two days and a confounded Dr. Mackenzie later O'Neill was given medical clearance to return to active duty. It wasn't that O'Neill had been uncooperative, for once, but that Mackenzie balked at certifying as fit someone with two distinct personalities in one body. Symbiote notwithstanding, in his book it was still schizophrenia, maybe an unusual cause but still there had to be issues to resolve. After the second session even Khalil insisted it was Mackenzie himself who was in need of counseling and not either he or O'Neill; as far as he was concerned the time spent was a total waste.   
  
Mackenzie couldn't deal with how easily he was thrown every time O'Neill and Khalil switched control. He finally settled for creating an entire separate file for Khalil, and treating them as two different patients, even to the point of talking to them at separately scheduled meetings. He required only one of them to maintain control during their sessions. Mackenzie's office staff pitied his wife for the mood he'd still be in when he got home.  
  
The mission to P9K 885 was completed by late afternoon not even requiring an overnight stay by SG-1. Before the day was over O'Neill submitted his report to Hammond along with recommendations for their next few missions.  
  
The second mission went as well as the first, as did the next. In no time the two week trial period was up and things were going so well there was no mention made of changing O'Neill's status or pressing the Tok'ra for a resolution.   
  
Their most recent mission was a success as far as meeting the objectives anyway. The weather didn't cooperate and they'd walked right into a storm rivaling a category 4 hurricane. They were supposed to meet with a delegation from the capital city and discuss emergency preparedness issues. So much for discussion. What they got was an up front hands on look at how the people handled a disaster.  
  
For the most part it was very similar to the procedures followed on earth with two main differences. Their early warning system was enough to impress even Carter using air pressure gradients and computer modeling to determine where the most damaging winds would occur. Secondly they didn't evacuate even the high strike zones. A series of portable sonic devices were moved in place to hold back or at least break up the worst of the storm surge, and the buildings were all constructed to withstand the high winds and water.  
  
Khalil pressed to see those in action and O'Neill ended up cold, soaked and dog tired after assisting the locals to set up three sonic generators. Watching the last one work was well worth the effort. When the surge hit the water seemed to impact a force field. At one point there was a twenty-foot high wall of water being held at bay by nothing but inaudible sound.  
  
On the way back to the Stargate O'Neill found himself barely staving off a sudden wave of dizziness and nausea. He chalked it up to getting his ears full of water and during his post-mission physical with Frasier didn't even mention it.  
  
Later in his quarters it hit again with a vengeance. Luckily he hadn't eaten much so his stomach was emptied quickly.  
  
'K, what's up with this? Did I catch their equivalent of the flu? How about a fix.'  
  
'You do not have the 'flu' and I am not sure just 'fixing' it would solve the problem.'  
  
'What are you talking about?'  
  
'Sometimes suffering through repercussions is a good thing. Like when someone is intent on pushing themselves too hard and will not listen.'  
  
'You're angry.'  
  
'Ya think?'  
  
O'Neill winced at his own sarcasm used against him. 'You're the one who wanted to go see the sonic thingys work.'  
  
'I did *not* ask to be drowned in the process or expect you to push your physical endurance to the limit. Must I remind you, your injuries were extreme, especially to your spinal column where I reside?'  
  
'They needed help.'  
  
'The situation was under control.'  
  
Realizing he was *not* going to win O'Neill conceded. 'Why didn't you just stop me if I was making you so upset?'  
  
Khalil sighed. 'And then how much closer would we be to trusting each other?'  
  
It occurred to O'Neill he wasn't yet taking Khalil's presence seriously. Even if this contract between them was to be short term, he hadn't accepted any responsibilities on his end. His embarrassment did not go unnoticed by Khalil who suddenly came to a realization of his own. For all O'Neill had endured in his life, he was still very young by Khalil's standards.   
  
He recalled something from O'Neill's memory that seemed to fit their current situation; someone very wise saying 'the young do not always do as they are told.' O'Neill deserved a chance to grow and make mistakes.  
  
Khalil spoke softly to his host, almost as a father. 'It is an unusual situation, put upon you under far less than desirable circumstances. Rest now. I will make repairs while you sleep.  
  
The needed repairs took only a short time but Khalil did not relinquish control. He let O'Neill sleep and began to work on the mission report they needed to submit. As he went over the events of the past few days he found himself frequently smiling. This was an amazing group of people who claimed O'Neill as their undisputed leader.   
  
The Jaffa he perhaps understood the most, he was trained to recognize strength and the ability to command. It would be expected for him to follow a natural born leader like O'Neill once he recognized the Goa'uld he followed was no god. As for the archaeologist, apparently he and O'Neill had become friends some time ago. The beginning was rocky but the foundation was solid as forged steel. O'Neill was the leader and Daniel the follower but it was surprising how many times the line between those roles blurred.  
  
The woman was an enigma to him. It was beyond obvious there was a strong attraction and even affection between she and O'Neill yet both of them fought it continuously. Khalil didn't for a second buy the 'regulations' argument O'Neill presented to him. He was certain this world was the same as all others. Laws and regulations were never absolutes. Like taking a life. Killing was acceptable under certain circumstances, in war, yes, your next-door neighbor, probably not. These military regulations had to be similar in their application. To Khalil they seemed to be less than a law but more than a guideline, either way they were not insurmountable.   
  
The 'duty' and 'honor' point of view he did understand; it was why he took on that last mission despite his concerns about the maturity of his host. As it turned out he was right; the youthful body was strong but not hardened and Khalil was forced to put all his energy into healing the numerous injuries. Unfortunately the Jaffa managed to stay ahead of him, inflicting more damage before he could complete repairs on the previous injuries.  
  
The result was that Tamar had to assume outward control of the body for extended periods including when he was dragged away to be tortured. The young man wasn't completely naïve but his youth betrayed him as the Jaffa wore him down. Khalil was proud the young man never did break and give away precious secrets but Tamar's psyche eventually paid the price. He withdrew into himself and became catatonic; even Khalil could not reach him.  
  
He ignored the tears threatening to fall from his eyes and thought again about O'Neill and his team. The Colonel had told him that he'd like to get them all together at his home soon for what he called a 'team' night. A sort of bonding ritual Khalil understood. O'Neill told him it would help them all get back to normal after what had happened.   
  
Khalil checked on O'Neill and finding him still asleep decided to do the invitations himself. 


	5. Consequences pt5

Consequences  
  
Pt 5  
  
It was still early in the afternoon and Khalil decided since it was 'Friday' and that held some significance to these people, he'd invite them over that very night. He really didn't expect them to agree as readily as they did and realized, somewhat belatedly that he never did let on that he wasn't O'Neill. Apparently they didn't notice.  
  
Teal'c of course was ready for some off-base action after being cooped up all week except for their off world time and Daniel, while preoccupied with his current translation project, agreed to come as long as he could bring his laptop along. The young man was still coming to grips with his friend not being dead and didn't seem to mind putting some things on hold to spend time with him.  
  
Daniel did ask about Khalil and wondered whether he was invited too. The symbiote grinned through his host. Daniel didn't know whom he was talking to. "Nah, all our 'human socialization' stuff is boring to him, he'll probably sleep through the whole thing."  
  
He gave Daniel a friendly pat on the shoulder before he left. "Dinner's at seven, don't be late."  
  
Next on the list was Carter. Khalil had some trepidation here, if anyone would know who was in control, it would be her. He decided to make it a phone invite.  
  
Interesting thing this telephone, he had no trouble pulling Carter's extension from O'Neill's mind and dialed it up.  
  
"Carter."  
  
He balked at the harsh sound of her voice; he had apparently interrupted something. "Hey, it's, um, me."  
  
"Sir? What can I do for you?"  
  
He could hear keys continuing to tap in the background and realized where her attention was focused; it was not on him, just as well. "I've been back a week now and since it *is* Friday, I thought a 'team night' was in order. Will you come?"  
  
The tapping noise ceased. There was a pause, much longer than he felt was necessary. "Do you think that's wise? I mean shouldn't you be staying on the base for now?"  
  
He knew she was talking about him, the symbiote. Time for a little of the famous O'Neill ranting. "Carter, I think I can get to my own house, snake or no snake!" He couldn't believe he just called himself a snake! "Selmac isn't forced to stay on the base when he's here." He winced into the phone, that wasn't at all what he meant to say. "I mean your Dad, Jacob, is allowed to leave the base. Maybe Khalil would enjoy seeing a little of Earth, I might even go to a... a..." He quickly scanned O'Neill's mind. "A hockey game."  
  
"It's summer."  
  
She lost him. He chose the most non-committal answer he could. "Um."  
  
"Where are you going to find a hockey game in the summer? The Rockies might have a game this weekend if you feel like traveling."  
  
Still lost. Crap. Where was that information when you needed it? He settled for the next thing he found. "Fishing?"  
  
The tapping resumed on the line. "Maybe you should stick with sports."  
  
"Fishing is a sport." At least he knew that.  
  
There was a heavy sigh on the line. "Okay then, a sport where people actually move."  
  
A change of tactics was in order. "If you were going to show him around where would you go?"  
  
The tapping stopped again. "Well, someplace where there aren't a lot of people. Maybe Peterson Base, show him some of our aircraft, or go for a drive up in the mountains, watch a sunset from up there."  
  
He lost it. "Is that an invitation, Major?"  
  
A sudden intake of breath on the other end of the line alerted him that he was blowing his cover. He went for a quick save. "I mean, if you wouldn't mind me tagging along, it's not like he can go anywhere without me."  
  
She didn't answer right away; he knew she was still evaluating which one of them she was talking to. Her voice started back with some hesitation. "I suppose, maybe. I actually had plans."  
  
He decided he'd pushed it too far. "What about tonight?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Team night. Tonight. Remember that's why I called?"  
  
"Oh." He could feel her wincing through the phone. "I, um, have a date."  
  
Tony. Khalil didn't even like the man's name. Whether it was influence from O'Neill or not, he didn't care. Something inside him was irked she'd spend time with someone else when she should be with O'Neill. He hadn't missed a single little glance she gave him the whole week, if O'Neill thought she didn't care he must be completely blind. He had an idea. "Bring him along."  
  
"I couldn't. He doesn't have clearance."  
  
"To come to my house?" Khalil was confused.  
  
"You know what I mean. Teal'c will be there, right?"  
  
"Oh. Good point."  
  
There was a long pause, and then she spoke very quietly. "We could stop by for a minute, maybe, and Teal'c could wear a hat."  
  
She was offering a compromise! He *knew* she'd want to see O'Neill. "We've done that before, called him Murray."  
  
"I remember."  
  
"Good, you'll come then." He tried to not sound too excited. "Seven. Bring Tony- and beer." He hung up the phone wondering where it was that last thought came from.  
  
Then it struck him. He was on a planet he did not know and had just invited four people to dinner at a house that was not his, and one of them was 'the boyfriend.' O'Neill might not be pleased. Still it could be interesting to meet this 'Tony.'  
  
It might be more interesting to deal with Tony himself.  
  
Khalil folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in the chair. He could do it, possibly. He'd have to keep O'Neill asleep, no problem there, but without O'Neill he was going to need major help to just get to the house, let alone prepare a meal.  
  
He glanced at his watch, 5:15 PM, not a lot of time. Another number came to mind and he dialed it quickly. "Teal'c? You want to get an early start? I'll let you drive."  
  
Khalil had to field several questions from the Jaffa and nearly panicked when Teal'c asked if they would be stopping off to do some 'shopping' on the way.  
  
He hadn't thought that maybe O'Neill wouldn't have adequate supplies at his home and then there was still the problem of what to prepare. Luckily Teal'c was in an unusually chatty mood and waylaid most of his fears. The shopping he had in mind was only to stop by the video store and pick up a copy of the most recent installment of Star Wars, which was something he said he could do while O'Neill waited in the truck.  
  
Teal'c acquired the entertainment for the evening, which turned out to be two episodes of what he referred to as a realistic saga of the relationship between master and apprentice. There was also a box covered with oddly drawn humanoid beings with bright yellow skin. The Jaffa seemed quite pleased to present it to his leader and Khalil tried his best to be honored with the gift.   
  
Upon leaving the establishment Teal'c inquired about the plans for their meal. Khalil sidestepped the issue. "Oh, I hadn't really decided, any ideas?"  
  
Teal'c thought for several seconds while they were stopped at a red light. "I believe I would prefer  
  
Thai this evening."  
  
Khalil frowned; this was entirely too much trivial information to be dragging out of O'Neill's brain while trying to keep him asleep.   
  
"Are you unhappy with this choice, O'Neill?"  
  
"No, no. Um, you think Carter and Jackson would agree?" He was trying to access how to procure something called 'Thai.'  
  
"I do not. The last time Major Carter imbibed of 'Hot and Spicy Chicken' she was very ill tempered the following day. Do you not recall she said it would be a 'cold day in hell' before she subjected herself to an intestinal purging of that magnitude again?"  
  
"What do you think she'd like?"  
  
"She has often voiced her affinity for Italian."  
  
Crap. Something else to figure out. "Ah, where did we get that last time?" He was pushing his luck but Teal'c was too busy pressing buttons on a device and finding a 'station' he liked to notice the Colonel's discomfort.  
  
"I do not recall the name, however do you not have a copy of a menu filed with the others?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, sure I do." He turned his head toward the window and rolled his eyes. If things got any more complicated he might have to wake O'Neill and *that* would not be pleasant. He had literally absconded with the man's body for the evening.  
  
They were at O'Neill's home by 6:00 and when Teal'c tossed the keys to him Khalil had to rely on pure luck to choose the right key. His second guess worked.  
  
Upon entering the abode he fumbled for a light switch and made an excuse to go to the rear of the house. "Would you mind getting out those 'menus' and having a look at them?"  
  
Khalil took several minutes to familiarize himself with his surroundings. He'd actually been there once this week when O'Neill stole away from the base to 'run errands.' Hammond hadn't really given permission and the visit was very short with O'Neill getting back to the base before anyone other than the checkpoint guards knew he was gone. He called it a 'Mini-Op.'  
  
When he returned to the den Teal'c had the menus laid out by the telephone and was busily flipping through multiple video images on the viewscreen in the room.  
  
Thankfully the menus had several items circled with thin black lines, presumably a past choice. One on the Thai menu was scribbled through until it was unreadable and marked 'No!'  
  
"You think it's too soon to place our request?"  
  
Teal'c glanced at the large clock on the mantle. "Perhaps, both Daniel Jackson and Major Carter tend to arrive after the designated hour."  
  
"Ah. Wait a half hour then?"   
  
"Or more."  
  
Khalil puttered around the kitchen for the entire waiting period presumably to set out eating implements but in reality trying to learn his way around as quickly as he could. He stepped out onto the wooden deck area to relax for just a few minutes before delving back into his assumed role.  
  
When he spotted the ladder up the side of the building he was intrigued. O'Neill spent a great deal of time there and found a certain reassurance in watching the stars. It was tempting to ascend the ladder and see it for himself but he wasn't sure how soon the others would arrive. Somehow he made it through the food ordering process helped by very young female voices on the other end of the line who were undoubtedly familiar with callers who really didn't know what they wanted.   
  
The only choice he knew for certain was the one for Teal'c as he'd made a specific request. He chose something made from chicken on the Thai menu for Daniel and ordered something circled on the Italian menu called 'Eggplant Parmesan' for the rest of them. The young woman asked how many people would be eating and suggested salads, light beer and garlic breadsticks on the side as a 'must' to go with the meal.  
  
Daniel arrived before the food and settled himself on the couch with his laptop open on the coffee table where he could work and still be a part of the group.  
  
Within minutes both of the delivery men showed up and though Khalil fumbled with the currency he did manage to pay what was owed plus a generous amount to be shared with the 'bright young ladies' who'd helped him on the phone.  
  
He ignored the odd looks as the men left and hoped Daniel and Teal'c were too engrossed in what they were doing to notice.   
  
The other men dug into their meals greedily but Khalil only picked at the tomato drenched vegetable on his plate and after one sip of the 'light beer' he set it aside and ignored it as undrinkable. He sat back and tried to watch the images of spaceships and odd creatures in the film but couldn't quite keep his interest trained there. After a few minutes he caught Daniel watching him.  
  
"Jack, something's wrong isn't it?"   
  
Crap, the quiet ones always seem to be the most dangerous. "I'm fine."  
  
"You haven't been yourself all night. Is it- um." He made a circling gesture around his own head to indicate something inside there was the problem.  
  
"No, he's asleep, passed out a while ago. Everything's fine"  
  
"You're sure? You're usually on your third beer by now."  
  
"Uh. Not my brand."  
  
"I thought you liked anything that wasn't European."  
  
Khalil just shrugged and tried to find something interesting on the plate of food. Daniel wasn't letting him off so easy. "Was Sam coming?"  
  
Khalil kept his head down. "Uh, huh."  
  
"Pretty late, maybe she lost track of time at work."  
  
For no good reason whatsoever he volunteered more information. "She's not at work. She had a 'date.' Said they'd stop by."  
  
Daniel's fork clattered on his plate. "She's coming here with the mystery man?"  
  
Khalil refused to look up; he knew both of his companions were staring at him. "His name is Tony."  
  
Teal'c cleared his throat, "Has not Major Carter endeavored to maintain a distance between ourselves and this person?"  
  
Before Khalil could formulate an answer the doorbell rang. He glanced at Teal'c and quickly went to the door.   
  
Carter looked beautiful dressed in a casual blue sweater and form-fitting black slacks. Khalil almost failed to notice the tall slender man at her side but as she entered the man was right on her heels. She dutifully introduced everyone and shot Teal'c a silent 'thank you' that he'd so quickly put on his cowboy hat and shifted gears to become 'Murray.'  
  
Carter's nose led her to the kitchen and she grinned at the spread on the table. It was nice he'd attempted to have something she liked. She figured O'Neill must have already eaten his meal, as the only choice of a main course was Eggplant. Something she adored but O'Neill hated with a passion.  
  
Daniel cleared his things out of the way so Sam and Tony could sit side by side on the couch and eat while watching the movie. At first conversation was at a minimum but that soon changed when Tony made a comment about the feasibility of a weapon anything remotely like a 'light saber.' He thought the idea was ridiculous.  
  
Teal'c ventured the first response. "Perhaps technology will advance to the point this device is possible in the future."  
  
"Nah. They're working on the premise of lasers, thing is, when you start light going in one direction doesn't it keep going forever? How do they get the blade part to stop at four feet? Anyway, a portable weapon made of energy would never have the power of a simple grenade or an armor tipped bullet. I'll keep my .45, thank you."  
  
Daniel's mouth fell open. There were more than a few times he could think of where taking a bullet would have been preferable to a staff blast, not to mention the second hit of a Zat. He glanced at O'Neill and caught the thoughtful expression on his friend's face.   
  
Khalil couldn't resist commenting. "You know, energy weapons may not be that far fetched an idea. It would only take a single technological breakthrough or discovery of, say, an element with unusual properties to turn weaponry in a whole new direction. Like using crystals to store information, once the concept was realized practical use became commonplace."  
  
Carter looked at him and gaped. What the hell? She mouthed a word to him, 'No.'  
  
Khalil blinked and took a quick breath, what had he said wrong? He blinked again and saw it. "I mean, will, will become commonplace. Of course it's only theoretical now, right Carter?" He threw the ball to her court.  
  
Her eyes were wide as she quickly formed an answer. "Oh, yeah, right. Silicon has reached its limit, as far as speed and capacity anyway, in our lifetime we'll probably see computers with chips made of quartz crystals."  
  
Daniel's eyes were darting between Sam and her 'date' observing his reaction. When he nodded thoughtfully and shrugged, Daniel's eyes closed. 'Nice save, Sam' he thought. His next thought brought him to O'Neill. What was Jack doing spouting technology?  
  
Khalil knew he'd stepped over that line of 'clearance' and decided to find something safer to talk about. "So, Tony, been in Colorado long?"  
  
From there the conversation went easier from everyone's standpoint. People tended to like to talk about themselves and Tony was no exception, he gladly related stories of his days in the military and his interests since that time. Even Sam didn't know how much he followed world politics and how opinionated he could be.  
  
Khalil settled down to just being chatty and asking an occasional question to spur Tony on. He even managed to add in a few of O'Neill's lighter comments without turning any heads in his direction. Soon Tony and Daniel were deep in a discussion about the politics of the digs in Egypt. Daniel thought every artifact deserved attention even if it had to be moved out of the country so someone could study it while Tony steadfastly felt it was nothing less than theft.  
  
As the conversation turned to world politics in general Sam eased herself out the room and exited to the deck for some fresh air.  
  
Khalil noted where she went and after ascertaining that Teal'c was engrossed in 'Star Wars, Part 2' snagged his now warm bottle of beer and went to join her. He did not intend to drink it, but he had to keep up appearances.  
  
"I don't get what you see in that guy."  
  
Carter looked at him in surprise; a minute ago he was chatting with 'that guy' like they'd been friends for years. "What do you mean?"  
  
"You've got nothing in common. I never took you to like politics, he thrives on it, he doesn't care a bit about technology and that's been your focus for, how long? Then there are all the experiences you've had. He hasn't really done much since he got out of the military." His voice dropped to just above a whisper. "What about Jolinar? You've been a host! What do you do- put all that on a shelf every time you're with him? Have you listened to yourself talk to him? You give the term 'small talk' a whole new meaning."  
  
She was irritated that he had the gall to talk to her like this and it began to show in her eyes.   
  
He took a half step forward and held out his hands. "I admit that I really like him. He's a nice guy, stable, personable."  
  
"You make him sound boring."  
  
He lowered his eyes thinking for a moment then grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the deck. She resisted at first but had a feeling he had something more to say that required a greater amount of privacy. She knew she was right when he led her to the ladder leading up to his rooftop hideaway. He released her and waved his hand upward, "Please."  
  
She shook her head at first but after a quick look back toward the den and hearing the animated conversation there, she relented. Politics was something she could do without.  
  
He followed her silently giving her a little distance and once on the roof put his hands on the railing and leaned forward looking up at the sky. "Beautiful aren't they?"  
  
She stepped forward next to him just short of touching the rail and crossed her arms over her chest. She answered him in a guarded tone. "Yes. Is that why you brought me up here?"  
  
"Actually it is. You know we are made of the same stuff as the stars? Basic elements anyway. They are beautiful but terrible and violent all the same as are we sometimes. Life is like that."  
  
Khalil closed his eyes and tapped into the still sleeping mind of O'Neill and found something his host had shared with him. One year after the Abydos mission he was sitting in this very spot looking through the telescope at the stars, totally at peace within himself. Just knowing the inhabitants of earth were not alone in the universe had changed the man. He knew being out there would have changed her too.  
  
She stared at him now. When had her CO become a poet? She knew he liked opera; maybe this was just an aspect of him she hadn't yet seen. Or maybe... "Sir, is Khalil, um..."  
  
He sighed. "Carter, it's *me* talking to *you*. Is that so hard to believe?"  
  
She flushed slightly and lowered her head.  
  
He didn't turn to her but continued to look upward. "What do you see?"  
  
She sighed and rolled her eyes then complied with his request. She turned her head up and without thinking, smiled at the sky. It was so clear tonight she could see millions of twinkling lights above her. "I see stars. Planets. That bright one is probably Mars."  
  
"Continue."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Humor me."  
  
She sighed again. "The Milky Way, our own galaxy. A hundred million, million stars and still counting." Her thoughts took a slight change of direction just as he'd hoped it would. "Other worlds, many just like ours circling who knows how many of those millions of stars. Destinations. All the places we might go someday. And all I ever wanted to be was an astronaut, I had no idea."  
  
He spoke to her softly. "So, even though you are a scientist when you look out there you see more than equations and statistics and probabilities. You see the *possibilities* of life, it's a part of you. You've even been there, seen it first hand; how can you leave that behind?"  
  
She was confused. "What? I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"But you do. Every time you see him you shut down this part of yourself. Of necessity, I understand. This is something you can never share. He's not boring or even very ordinary, I can tell that just by talking to him, but he has no concept of where you've been and the things you've seen; of the life that is out there. I don't think he cares for the more adventurous side of life at all. Nothing  
  
against him, I just think you could do better."  
  
There. The shoe had dropped.  
  
As did her mouth.  
  
"Sir." Her stare intensified. She wanted to tell him it was none of his damn business with whom she spent her time. She wanted to ask him just when it was he appointed himself her personal advisor, and inform him she could make her own decisions, thank you very much.   
  
She did neither.  
  
"So who did you have in mind?"  
  
The faintest of smiles flicked over his lips. "No one in particular, just someone who knows there is so much more than what most have seen, with whom you can share your life, all of it."  
  
She was startled as something warm settled on her hand. She'd been holding on to the railing with one hand to steady herself and O'Neill's hand was now resting lightly on hers almost completely covering the smaller hand.  
  
Slowly her eyes drifted upward until she was looking into his. As she did she took an involuntary step forward.  
  
Khalil thought he was ready for this; he was amazed how wrong he was. Whether it was the moonlight making little sparkles in her hair or the scent of the slightly sweet perfume she was wearing he didn't know but he felt like his senses were being assaulted with her presence. The host body responded to the stimulus as expected. He had to quickly concentrate restrain himself and slow the accelerated heart rate and breathing, not to mention other things.  
  
His left hand rose up and two fingertips brushed against her cheek then slid down her jaw to her chin. Once there he applied just a slight amount of upward pressure and had to stifle a smile when she responded by tilting her head toward his face.  
  
She blinked one time slowly, letting her eyelids rest closed for a moment longer than necessary and when she opened them his face was much closer than before.  
  
He spoke quietly, almost reverently. "I shouldn't have asked you to come up here."  
  
"No, I shouldn't have come." She inched a little closer to him.  
  
"We should go back down."  
  
"We should."  
  
Khalil couldn't believe he was about to do it again. He'd already crossed one line tonight and now he was toe-to-toe with another one. He did a quick check to make sure O'Neill was still in a deep sleep.  
  
He knew he could have done it, stopped a minute ago. But that was then and right now Carter was so close he had to tilt his head slightly to not bump her nose. Her head automatically tilted the other way and then that little space, the one with the bright red line drawn down the center wasn't there anymore.  
  
As soon as his lips began to brush against hers his reflex was to increase the pressure and as he did he found she was doing the same thing.  
  
His arms moved to encircle her and press her tightly to his chest and hers rose up to rest just below his shoulder blades where she could apply some pressure of her own.  
  
Khalil reveled in the sensation. True, he was no stranger to human intimacy but this was somehow different, as if this body he inhabited was so attuned to the other they moved in concert with no conscious effort whatsoever.  
  
He soon had to restrain himself again, but only to keep from hurting her, his desire was so great. He hungered to increase the contact between them but made himself concentrate only on the kiss. He wasn't entirely successful and let some of his control go losing himself in a wave of arousal. One hand lowered and he pushed her hips forward to his own. He let a small groan escape his throat as he did so. They continued to press and move together for several minutes until both were breathless and overheated, then separated reluctantly and only enough to rest their foreheads together.  
  
Khalil swallowed hard, panting. There was one more line beyond, one he could not, *would* not cross for the sake of his host. But it was close, oh so very close. "We really should go."  
  
Carter blew out a soft heated breath. "We should."  
  
"Soon."  
  
"I know."  
  
He took in a deep breath and as he exhaled he stood upright effectively separating them. His hands fell to his sides and he closed his eyes. He heard and felt movement around him and knew when his eyes opened again Carter would be gone. He rather hoped she'd go straight to the den, say goodnight to Teal'c and Daniel and then leave before he returned to the house. He didn't think he could stand to see her again.   
  
He stayed on the roof a little while to give himself time to come down from the high he'd been on and allow his host body to cool off. He sat on the single chair and ran his fingers through the short-cropped hair. Well, he wanted to do something about O'Neill and Carter, this just wasn't exactly what he had in mind at the time.  
  
Relief washed over him as an engine came to life in the driveway. A moment later Carter and Tony were gone. Now all he had to do was hold himself together long enough for Daniel and Teal'c to either leave or sack out somewhere in the house. Either way he was putting this body to bed as soon as possible; he was exhausted. 


	6. Consequences pt6

Consequences  
  
Pt 6  
  
O'Neill woke early in the morning grateful to have no more headache. In fact he felt great, Khalil must have fixed whatever was wrong. From the silence within his head he knew the symbiote was still asleep. He was moderately surprised to find himself at home in his own bed. Khalil could of course move the body and do things while he was asleep but he wondered how he managed to drive or more than that, how he dealt with the Cheyenne Mountain checkpoints and Friday evening traffic.  
  
When he went downstairs to the kitchen he noticed the evidence of several take out food items in the trash and it crossed his mind to check the VCR. Star Wars. So that was it, Teal'c probably drove the truck and Daniel followed behind. They brought him home and then spent a little time getting to know Khalil. He didn't really mind, though it was odd to wonder if they talked about him while he was 'out'.  
  
It was Saturday morning and he decided to go for a run. This was the end of his sixth week as a host, not counting the weeks he was unconscious, and life was surprisingly normal. The only consideration that had not been addressed to everyone's satisfaction was whether O'Neill could continue to live off base. He understood the risks well enough, hell, what if he were in a simple car accident and taken to the local hospital for a CT scan? O'Neill was still searching for an answer that he could live with. For now he'd been granted a four-day pass with the stipulation he stay in Colorado Springs, no fishing trips to his cabin just yet.  
  
As O'Neill ran along the early morning deserted side streets he let his mind wander. This new 'thing' he'd become wasn't so bad after all. Most of the time Khalil was enjoyable to be around, especially after he began to appreciate the intricacies of sarcasm and juggling. O'Neill still couldn't get used to seeing his hands tossing wads of paper in the air and catching them without having control over what he was doing.   
  
A lot of daily activities were like that. At first he kept the more 'fun' things to himself only delegating tasks related to work or chores to Khalil. As time went on he felt a need to share more of the things he really enjoyed.  
  
For one thing he was now a fair partner for Teal'c in the sparring ring. He even knocked the Jaffa down once or twice and rarely ever found himself looking up from the mat. He thoroughly enjoyed seeing all activity in the gym cease when he and Teal'c went at it; their matches were becoming the stuff of legends.  
  
He was soon allowing Khalil to choose what he wanted to do during their downtime. Surprisingly Khalil did like sports, at least anything that could be viewed as a contest of strength or a skill of some kind. Track and auto racing were out but Hockey, Baseball and especially Basketball were on his list of favorites. He did not see any point to 'The Simpson's' but Pavarotti reminded him of an uncle he once had and he enjoyed the stirring music of opera.  
  
Eventually Khalil was awakened by the rhythmic jarring motion of O'Neill's running.  
  
He spoke groggily, "What the hell are you doing?"  
  
O'Neill grinned. "God morning to you too. I'm running."  
  
"From what?"  
  
"Not *from* anything. Because it's healthy, keeps me in shape."  
  
"You do not need to exercise you understand."  
  
"It still feels good to do it, endorphins you know."  
  
"I can do that too."  
  
O'Neill mentally shook his head, "Still not much of a morning person are you? What do you say I call the kids later and get them to come over? You feel like a barbecue this afternoon?"  
  
There was a long pause. "You can't do that."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Another pause, almost as long followed. "Because you already did."  
  
Now O'Neill paused. "You mean that thing last night with Daniel and Teal'c? It's okay, that was you, this is me."  
  
"It was you, trust me."  
  
"No it wasn't."  
  
"It was."  
  
"Was not."  
  
Khalil sighed heavily. "As far as they were concerned, it was."  
  
O'Neill stopped running and spoke aloud. "You impersonated me? Why would you do that?"  
  
"There was something I wanted to do."  
  
"And you had to do it as me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So what did you do?" O'Neill was becoming irritated; he began to run again. "You might as well fess up; if it involves Daniel I *will* find out about it."  
  
There was another long pause before Khalil responded. "That is true." He winced. "I talked to Carter about Tony."  
  
O'Neill's feet stopped moving. "Carter was there too?"  
  
"She was."  
  
Irate was not a strong enough word. "What the hell did you say to her?"  
  
Khalil replied slowly. "I only told her she doesn't have much in common with him and that she could do better."  
  
"And she thought it was me saying this to her?"  
  
"Well, I think she suspected otherwise but, yes, she did."  
  
The running resumed at an increased pace. O'Neill didn't speak another word all the way home. When he got to the house he slammed the door behind him and stalked into the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. He snapped off the cap and threw it forcefully across the room.  
  
"All right, what else did you do?"  
  
"Not much."  
  
O'Neill squinted his eyes and asked, "So if I talk to any member of my team they will confirm this, right?"  
  
He could feel Khalil cringe inside him. "Not exactly."  
  
"So what then, exactly?"  
  
Khalil took a breath. "Tony was here too; he and Daniel got along very well."  
  
"And?" O'Neill's mood was getting darker; he knew there was something big behind that cringe.  
  
After a considerable pause O'Neill said, "Still waiting."  
  
"I kissed her."  
  
"You *what*?" He slammed the bottle of water hard on the counter making it splash, then began to pace.  
  
"It's okay, we were on your roof, alone, and she kissed back."  
  
O'Neill closed his eyes trying to take in this information then suddenly erupted. "You *made out* with Carter on my *roof*? With *Tony* downstairs? *And* she thought it was *me*?" His voice rose in pitch with each exclamation.  
  
"Are you *trying* to ruin my life?" O'Neill had passed 'livid' a while ago and moved on to 'outraged.'  
  
Khalil tried to calm him but O'Neill was on a roll. "What was it you were so concerned about just a few weeks ago? Trust and honor? Have those words changed their meaning since I last looked? Anybody got a dictionary? I'll check it right now!"  
  
"Enough!" Khalil forcibly took control of his host for the first time in over two hundred years. He was shocked when O'Neill held his ground.   
  
O'Neill could feel the hatred Khalil held for what he was doing and knew it would make him weak, not enough to lose the battle but enough that it would not be over quickly. As they struggled for dominance his body swayed and came crashing down to the floor taking a lamp and several framed photos with it.  
  
Khalil suddenly relented and allowed O'Neill to sit himself up and survey the damage to the room. "Well that was monumentally stupid!"  
  
Khalil did not answer. If the human wanted to have another fit, he'd let him.  
  
Suddenly O'Neill was rubbing his hands over his face and chuckling. Khalil relaxed just a tiny bit and approached him cautiously. "What has amused you?" He asked quietly, trying to be as non-confrontational as possible.  
  
"You, me, all of this." He waved a hand in the air at nothing in particular.  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"Of course you don't. It's not really funny. It's ironic. I'm angry with you for doing exactly what I'd *like* to do, but it was me doing it all along. You realize you still did wrong by hijacking my body and I'm not thrilled you deceived my team. I'm kinda disappointed they let you get away with it. I thought they knew me better than that."  
  
"Do not discount them so easily. I put a great deal of effort into observing and mimicking your behavior."  
  
O'Neill's mood grew dark again. "You won't do that again."  
  
Khalil was silent at first then spoke. "What I will not do is lie," he paused, "to you."  
  
"Leaving the door open are you?"  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
"Okay then." Khalil was surprised at the lightness of his tone. "As long as we know where we stand. One thing though, we really need to talk to Carter, both of us."  
  
Monday morning O'Neill came sauntering into the SGC whistling, actually whistling he was in such a good mood. He'd spent almost the entire weekend trading barbs with Khalil. The symbiote was really getting the hang of sarcasm. After they made their peace with each other the rest of the weekend went by smoothly. They'd decided to let the 'Carter confrontation' go until they were back at work; since it was not something that would resolve itself quickly anyway. It gave them both a chance to figure out what they wanted to say to her.   
  
The briefing went by quickly and Hammond gave them a 'go' for a standard meet and greet at 1400 hours.  
  
The inhabitants of P5C 827 were quite willing to become friends, almost too much so. The only real barrier was their language. Of course Daniel was able to piece it together as a mixture of Greek island dialects and could converse on a rudimentary level. Eventually they were confident enough of their ability to communicate on a sign language basis that the team split up.  
  
O'Neill and Teal'c joined a group of young men who, seeing the Staff Weapon and P-90's were excited to exhibit some of their own weaponry. There was a makeshift target range on the outskirts of town and they all took turns showing off their prowess.   
  
Carter went with a young man and woman who according to Daniel would show her their hospital and what some of their medicines could do, while Daniel himself spent the time with the eldest of the men examining their ancient texts. The written word seemed to be much easier to understand than what was spoken.  
  
While pouring over the manuscripts Daniel came upon their code of law. Most of it was fairly interesting and he was surprised to see they'd done away with the death penalty, which he considered to be an advanced concept.  
  
He found only two exceptions to the rule, murder and demonic possession.  
  
It seemed an odd thing for them to give such weight to a spiritual matter so he questioned it. He remembered seeing the same word in a medical book but the context was completely different.   
  
The old man understood his confusion and explained, there was no difference; both texts were speaking of the same thing.  
  
Daniel read the text again, and suddenly realized what it was saying. He quickly made his way to the outer doorway and thumbed his microphone. "Jack?"  
  
O'Neill and Teal'c were currently examining non-projectile weapons. They looked like they were made of an ordinary metal but they were so lightweight it startled Teal'c to pick one up. He was sure wielding such a weapon would require great skill as one could not use the weight of the weapon itself to assure damage was done.  
  
When the radio crackled O'Neill moved away from the group and answered. "Daniel? What is it?"  
  
"Jack, we need to go."  
  
O'Neill glanced down at the radio not believing the words that came out of it. "This is Doctor Daniel Jackson, is it not?"  
  
Daniel's tone was urgent. "I found something. Listen to me, these people have an advanced view of justice here, for the most part. They've done away with the death penalty with two major exceptions, one being demonic possession."  
  
"And this is important- why?"  
  
"The word they use is the same word that means 'parasitic infection'. Their code of justice requires a person with this condition to be executed by decapitation. And they *don't* require a trial."  
  
O'Neill's hand involuntarily rose to his neck as Daniel continued. "Possession by a parasite. Does this even remotely describe anyone we know?"   
  
"Shit."  
  
"Jack, if they have a way of detecting this 'condition'- you've got to get out of here, now. Sam should go too, just in case it's the Naquadah they use as an indicator."  
  
"And Teal'c, what about the Tretonin?"  
  
Daniel frowned. "I have no idea, it could be I'm the only one who's safe."  
  
O'Neill lowered his voice and replied. "You're close to the hospital. Get Carter, meet us on the road to the Stargate."  
  
"They'll want an explanation."  
  
"Make up something! Promise to come back soon and bring more friends. I don't care. Don't let Carter out of your sight for a minute. Go."  
  
He raised his head and sent a big grin toward Teal'c then waved him over. "T, come here! I got somethin' to tell you."  
  
Then men were disappointed at the sudden loss of their audience and insisted that they be escorted back to the city hall. It took some doing to convince them that their destination was the other direction, to the west side of town and the Stargate.  
  
As they approached O'Neill could see a bit of a confrontation was going on. Daniel was fervently explaining something while Carter was standing by looking upset and pale.  
  
O'Neill tried to act unconcerned. "Hey, kids. What's up?"  
  
Daniel shot him a look then briefly spoke to an old man before turning back. "I'm sorry, Jack. There just wasn't any way to know. It was at the hospital."  
  
"What?"  
  
Carter spoke up, frowning. "They had a device. They told me it could diagnose infections. Part of it turned out to be the crystal from a Goa'uld hand device. They were just going to show me how it worked. This contraption was strapped to my arm and they applied a little electric current. It glowed."  
  
Daniel cut in. "We've been standing here trying to convince them she's not sick, it's just a side effect from having the infection a along time ago. They're insisting there is no permanent cure. They want to execute her!"  
  
"Tell them we're leaving right now. We'll take care of it on our side. We have our own laws to obey back home."  
  
"That's what I've *been* saying! They insist she not be allowed to carry the disease to another place."  
  
"Daniel! Explain it to them again. Explain it to them until they get it! There will be no executions today!"  
  
"They aren't listening anymore, and it gets worse. They want to test all of us."  
  
"Not on this side of hell they're not." He looked at Carter and rubbed a hand over his face. "Get them to hold off. Tell them we're not refusing anything. We're even grateful for their help, but we must deal with this in our own way. Carter, you think Teal'c can pass their test?"  
  
"Maybe. How soon are you due for a dose of Tretonin?"  
  
"I will require none for some time."  
  
O'Neill looked around at the men who were waiting to take them. "The floor is open kids. Anyone?"  
  
Carter offered a solution. "I think Teal'c will be able to pass if he can avoid being tested until his Tretonin levels drop. As far as you and I, I don't think they can tell the difference between a live symbiote and a dead one, maybe Janet can put together enough evidence to convince them we only have a marker left over from a past infection."  
  
"Daniel, that means someone will have to get back to the SGC and tell Hammond what's going on. You're the only one who can leave."  
  
He protested. "And what if they decide to execute all of you while I'm gone? You can't even communicate with them!"  
  
"We are running out of choices here." O'Neill countered in a mockingly light tone.  
  
A moment later their discussion was moot.  
  
He didn't mean to do it, didn't see it coming in the slightest way; it was completely a reflex. All because a behemoth of a man laid his hand on Carter.  
  
The people had become restless waiting for something to be done so one of the officials ordered her taken into custody by force. From the moment the man's hand gripped Carter's arm the world went into slow motion for O'Neill.   
  
He was on the man in a blink of an eye, one hand on his collar and the other squeezing his wrist with such force the bones gave way and snapped like toothpicks. He lifted the man, who was nearly twice his weight, off the ground and threw him like a rag doll against a wall. Then he stood using his body as a shield between the onlookers and Carter, glaring at them.  
  
He may have gotten away with it as a burst of adrenalin and good conditioning but for one thing. His eyes glowed.  
  
He knew he'd done it, just a momentary switch of control to boost his strength but he forgot how easily a stressful situation could bring out the other qualities. He spun around grabbing Carter's arm as he went and spat out a curse. "Teal'c, Daniel! Move! Now!" He shoved Carter in the general direction of the Stargate. Their only hope was to escape in the confusion by outrunning them to the gate. Thank God their weapons hadn't yet been taken.  
  
The Stargate was less than a mile away, well within sight when a group of the youngest, strongest and unfortunately most well armed men caught up with them. Teal'c was ahead by a good twenty yards and spun as O'Neill yelled his name. At once he stood fast and raised his staff weapon to fire volley after volley of flames over the heads of their pursuers.  
  
O'Neill and the others ran on past the big Jaffa and after finding suitable cover used their weapons to allow him to join them. They'd had enough experience over the years of making runs to the gate like this and everything fell into place as if it were rehearsed.  
  
Fifteen feet short of the DHD the scenario failed.  
  
Daniel was right beside O'Neill and saw him lurch forward suddenly and go down. He gasped at the sight of an arrow sticking straight out of the base of his head. A perfect shot if someone were trying to kill a symbiote.  
  
"Jack! Oh, my God! Sam!"  
  
She spun around at the sound of her name and almost missed the crumpled form on the ground. Without a thought she began to run toward him. "Teal'c! Cover us!"  
  
She dropped to her knees beside O'Neill and quickly felt for a pulse. It was there and strong and he was still breathing. She couldn't ask for much more under these circumstances. Her instinct was to grasp the offending piece of metal and yank it free but she had no idea if it would cause more damage to do so. She scrubbed her hand through her hair and looked at Daniel. "Help me get him up."  
  
"Up? What *up*? He's not going anywhere."  
  
She held back from yelling right in his face. "Oh, yes he is, dragged every inch if we have to! Come on!" She grabbed one arm and started to pull. Daniel shook his head but took hold of the other side and started to move along with her. Between the two of them they got him as far as the DHD.  
  
Carter stopped and began to lower O'Neill back to the ground. "Daniel! Dial now!" She quickly entered their 911 code into her GDO and set it to continuous repeat then raised her P-90 and began to sweep the area. Daniel finally pressed the center crystal and the wormhole whooshed to life temporarily bringing the assaulting force to a standstill as they watched the spectacle.   
  
Immediately Carter lowered her weapon and swung an arm up under O'Neill's willing her strength to be enough. Daniel was soon there beside her and had the other shoulder as before. Together they dragged the unconscious man up the six stone steps and through the Stargate. As the tip of O'Neill's boot went through Teal'c took one step back and raised the end of his staff weapon immersing himself in the event horizon.  
  
On the other side Teal'c turned slowly as the iris began to close. A medical team was already filing into the room. Carter and Daniel took only a few steps forward then gently lay their CO on the ramp and backed away. He looked so odd there on the ground; his jacket was hoisted up around his head and neck from the way they'd been pulling on his arms and only the top of his head was visible. The arrow a grotesque reminder he was not merely unconscious or asleep.  
  
Frasier only took a second to make sure he was still alive and ordered him lifted on a gurney and moved to the infirmary immediately. Knowing the position of the symbiote, she didn't know how the arrow could possibly have missed him.  
  
In the few minutes it took for the surgical team to prep Frasier had her nurses jumping through hoops, or nearly so. It was a challenge to get O'Neill stripped and hook up all the various lines and tubes they'd need for surgery and not turn him over or move his head. The little Doctor herself took charge of that from the moment they left the Gate room. Now she stood at the head of the bed barking orders all the while cradling O'Neill's head between her arms. As soon as the clothing covering his upper body had been cut free she braced her hands against his shoulders and sandwiched his head between her forearms. A rolled up towel was placed under his forehead so he could breathe through his nose and mouth.   
  
She realized they were not going to be able to get an endotracheal tube in like this and growled at the lack of options. He would have to be turned over if only for a few minutes. She barked more orders "Central line kit, Trach tray! Somebody get a pair of cutters and trim off about two feet of this damn thing before it puts out somebody's eye!"  
  
Once the arrow was cut to a manageable two-centimeter nub she switched places with a first-year corpsman and prayed he wouldn't pass out at being put to work in this way. She stuck a finger right between his eyes and told him if he let that head loose for one second she'd know it.  
  
It took a whole flock of white uniforms to roll him without twisting and once they had him firmly on his back she nodded to the corpsman 'well done'. His job wasn't through yet though, he was now the stand-in brace for as long as needed.  
  
Frasier turned her attention elsewhere. She couldn't take the chance on tilting his head to place the ET tube so she quickly swabbed below his larynx and sliced through the hard cartilage with a scalpel. She had to lean her weight into it but only for a moment then she felt the tissue give way indicating she was into the trachea. The respiratory technician was ready with a tracheostomy tube and she slipped it in. One of the nurses attached an Ambu bag and squeezed twice, hard, while the Respiratory tech slapped a stethoscope on O'Neill's chest and listened intently. He spoke aloud amid the chaos, "Tube position good!" then quickly set to taping it in place.  
  
Frasier had already moved on but somewhere deep inside her mind another item was checked off her list of 'must do now'. A CT would take too long right now so she ordered a simple skull and neck x-ray series, then set to getting in a large bore IV line.   
  
The nurses were done placing a urinary catheter and Frasier moved to stand beside O'Neill's still exposed groin. The Central line kit was placed on the bed between his feet for ease of access and Frasier literally began to grab items off the tray before the nurse had it set up. Once prepped, Frasier deftly inserted the line into the femoral vein. They both worked methodically, the nurse running the procedure over in her mind trying to stay just one step ahead of the doctor in the process. As Frasier sutured it in place, the nurse flushed out the four ports to be used for fluids and medications and promptly began to plug in the drips already set up by her teammates. Their hands were nearly on top of each other but knowing well their own tasks they didn't interfere with one another.  
  
By the time Frasier had relieved herself of her fourth pair of bloody gloves the x-ray was ready for a 'wet' reading. It was as she expected. While the arrow did go through O'Neill's skull and some of his brain tissue, it lodged itself almost completely in Khalil. Doctor Warner appeared from the OR suite and stood behind her to view the films. She could tell by his breathing he was unhappy. Not only had he never operated on a symbiote with the goal of saving it's life, this one was nearly severed in half.   
  
"Could use a neurosurgeon." He commented quietly.  
  
"Joe Franks is on the way but you'll have to start alone."  
  
He outlined his plan of attack as much for himself as to gain Frasier's opinion on his choices. "Intracranial pressure monitor first, left side, vertebrae look okay, remove bone chips here and here." He indicated three white objects near the shaft of the arrow. He chewed his lower lip and looked in closer. "Symbiote has two crushed vertebrae. Don't think repair is an option. I could take a piece of cartilage from here and use it as a splint. Then we'll deal with the arrow."  
  
Frasier nodded.   
  
"Could use a pair of small hands until Joe gets here."  
  
"Thought you'd never ask."  
  
They hadn't looked at each other until this very moment and saw their own fears and concerns echoed in each others eyes. "Let's go."  
  
After Doctor Franks was scrubbed in Frasier took her leave. She'd done everything she could, it was up to the two men to complete the task. She walked slowly out of the suite and wasn't surprised to find a host of SGC personnel lining the hallway.   
  
Carter and Daniel were sitting side by side on the floor with their backs against the wall, Daniel's arm was around the Major's shoulders gripping her tightly and Teal'c was standing with hands clasped behind his back at attention. Frasier wondered how long it had been since he last moved.  
  
General Hammond himself was seated in a chair staring at his hands. When the door opened he looked up expectantly. All of them did. Frasier could only shrug, it was far too soon to know anything. "It will be some time yet."  
  
The General stood stiffly and gestured toward the chair. He didn't wait for a response but began to walk slowly down the hall avoiding all eyes as he went. His shoulders slumped as he walked and to anyone who didn't know him he seemed to be nothing more than a tired old man.  
  
Seven hours later two exhausted surgeons emerged from the OR suite. O'Neill was stable, but that was about all they could say.   
  
He was moved to the ICU and Frasier met SG-1 at the door. "I doubt I could stop you so you may come in for a few minutes." She was glad to see Hammond had returned as she did not relish having to explain the situation twice.   
  
She led the way to the only occupied cubicle. There were so many machines in place it looked like there were ten patients instead of just one.   
  
Frasier swallowed and began her explanation of what had occurred and what they were now seeing. "Colonel O'Neill was impaled by a large-bladed arrow just above the first vertebrae. His skull was fractured in the process but tissue damage was less than expected for such a large wound. The most significant issues to address will be the loss of cerebral spinal fluid and infection. There is a fair amount of swelling as well, which could result in additional injury to the tissues."   
  
"The brunt of the initial damage was taken by Khalil. The symbiote suffered two crushed vertebrae and at the point of impact was nearly severed in half. Doctor Franks and Doctor Warner were able to create a sort of 'splint' to support the symbiotes spine for now but we don't know if this injury is something from which even a symbiote can recover. Due to the nature of the injury a large amount of the symbiotes blood was intermingled with the Colonel's spinal fluid. While we know that symbiote blood mixed with human blood is fatal to the host, we have no idea what the effect will be in the central nervous system. There is a blood-brain barrier that protects the brain from foreign substances and bacteria; but we don't know if it will protect the Colonel from Khalil's blood."  
  
"As you can see we have stabilized the head and neck area with a brace and since it could have caused more damage at the time, instead of a regular endotracheal tube, a tracheotomy was performed. He is breathing through the tube in his neck. For now, and the next several days, he will remain comatose; do not expect anything else. He is receiving drugs to paralyze his body so he can heal. You will also note a small tube extending out from the left side of his head. That is a pressure monitor. We expect the pressure to be high due to swelling but if it is too high the Colonel will die. We are giving him medications to keep the swelling to a minimum but we need to monitor it for at least a day or so."  
  
"The first 24 hours will be critical. For now all we can do is maintain total life support, for Colonel O'Neill anyway. We can only hope it will benefit Khalil as well."  
  
"I know you are all worried, but please keep your visits short for tonight. The nurses will be quite busy, please stay out of their way."  
  
Speech over, Frasier stepped back from the bed as if dragged away by a heavy weight. In a way it was; she'd need to sit down and document in even greater detail all that she had just related.  
  
Carter, Daniel, Teal'c and Hammond stood still as statues taking in the massive amount of information Frasier had just laid out for them to absorb. For all the Colonel had been through a single piece of shaped metal could mean his death.  
  
One by one they filed out as they each came to understand what a long haul this was sure to be. Those 'weeks' before could have only been a short prelude. Finally Carter was left standing alone at the foot of the bed. Frasier stepped out of her office and saw her standing there, her head almost on her chest, eyes closed.  
  
"Sam. You should get some rest."  
  
Her head snapped up and she sniffed harshly then wiped quickly at her cheeks.  
  
Frasier watched her friend for a minute and decided there would be no rest no matter where Sam was, so she might as well stay for a few more minutes. She walked to the corner of the room and picked up a lightweight plastic chair.  
  
"Here. Sit. Thirty minutes, then promise me you'll get some rest. Take these." She pressed a small packet of sleeping pills into the Major's palm.  
  
Carter nodded reluctantly. After Frasier was gone she moved the chair over close to the bed and settled herself into it. There was so much to think about, how could she even consider sleep?  
  
First of all there was what she'd done over the weekend. It all started with that rooftop kiss. When she and Tony left that night he wasn't done discussing politics, he kept the subject going until he finally dropped her off and said goodnight. She *never* was so bored in her entire life! Instead of crashing once she got home she stayed up most of the night thinking, re-evaluating again. It seemed O'Neill was right, she liked Tony as a person, really enjoyed being around him, but it never felt like anything more than a friendship. What she had with him just wasn't enough.  
  
The first thing she did Saturday morning was call Tony. He knew by her tone something was wrong and agreed to meet her for lunch at a little diner near the Air Base.  
  
Typical place for a 'Dear John' brunch she thought. The small diner she'd chosen was the perfect place to talk. It was just busy enough their waitress was kept busy elsewhere and just empty enough that they didn't have to keep their voices low for fear of someone overhearing their private conversation.  
  
He wasn't thrilled. In fact he was downright irked. How could she just decide one day it was over? As of last night everything was fine. Or so he'd thought. What had he done?   
  
She assured him it wasn't what he'd done it was *who* she was. They had just too little in common. Her work was everything, defined her as a person, too much a part of her life to not share. She tried to make him understand it was her failing not his.  
  
Her explanation didn't suit him and he pushed her to find out what it was she really did for a living, knowing full well she'd never tell him. He was convinced that little 'team night' thing was what did it.  
  
She decided the conversation was over and stood to leave. "As I've told you before, satellites and deep space radar telemetry."  
  
"And you're quitting us for that?"  
  
She grimaced when he put it that way. "It's very demanding and time-consuming work; I don't expect you to wait for me or anything."   
  
He shook his head and pleaded with her. "Samantha, you only get one life, you should live it."  
  
"I know. That's what I intend to do." On an impulse she took his hand and squeezed it. "You mean a lot to me, I even like your mom." She smiled at the flush in his cheeks. "But there are things I have to do right now. Who knows what the future holds for either of us. Just be happy and be happy for me, if our paths cross again-" She cocked her head and shrugged.  
  
She fully intended to notify her CO she'd be spending a bit more time on the base and offer her services for any projects he might have in mind. She never got the chance.  
  
Frasier came back through the infirmary two hours later and shook her head when she saw Sam was still there. Sleep, apparently, was not a problem anymore. Carter was slumped against the side of the bed; her right arm was resting in her lap and her left was crooked up on the bed cradling her head.  
  
Unbeknownst to anyone that night there was another restless soul. Khalil woke shortly after the surgery and was surprised to find he had no control over most of his body and none at all over the host. It was only a slight consolation to find a chemical circulating in O'Neill's blood that was effectively paralyzing him.  
  
He quickly assessed the damage. There was so much in such a small space! The pressure alone was enough to kill them both. He noted the tiny tube extending into the cranium and surmised it was a monitor of some kind. He couldn't understand if they were monitoring, why they weren't doing something, unless they were not aware that a normal human could tolerate a much higher level than a blended human. He cursed knowing he had no way to tell them.  
  
Twice O'Neill's heart began to falter and Khalil had to quickly release a barrage of chemicals to stabilize him. He knew he was slowly losing his ability to hold on to life at all. After the next episode he decided he had to do something; they were both mere minutes away from death.   
  
He knew there was no time to make repairs methodically, he'd have to choose what little he could and could not do. He either had to concentrate on himself and jump hosts immediately or put his efforts into O'Neill. The choice was simple, after all he'd cheated death more times than he could count, one of them being a direct result of this uncommon human's intervention.   
  
He concentrated on pulling nerve fibers together and reducing the swelling. He literally forced the pressure monitoring device out leaving behind an opening through which excess fluid could flow freely and reduce the internal pressure. The very fluid that he needed to survive would cause irreparable brain damage to O'Neill if it were allowed to stay.  
  
Once the pressure had begun to drop, Khalil turned his attention to O'Neill's injuries. First, a large section of O'Neill's brain tissue had simply been slashed as the arrow imbedded itself in him. Then there was the additional damage done by the surgeons who removed the arrow. He knew it couldn't have been helped but it did make matters worse. Khalil repaired the tissue knitting together the neurons strand by strand until the pathways were complete. This part of the brain controlled many of the basic functions of life such as breathing and other autonomic tasks and Khalil knew it was essential they be repaired. He completed his work and then released a barrage of hormones to accelerate healing throughout the area.  
  
Exhausted but finally satisfied he'd done enough for O'Neill to mend on his own Khalil opened his mind to his host one last time. He knew O'Neill was still unresponsive but he wanted to impress as many memories as possible into his mind while he still could. It was not a necessary task but the memories would be more accessible if he were able to imprint them. As he recalled hundreds of years of memories Khalil slipped into a deep dreamy sleep. He relaxed and though his own bodily functions slowed and stopped, the dreams continued for a short while as though seen through a heavy fog then they too, ceased. He never woke again.  
  
Doctor Frasier walked briskly into the infirmary that morning intent on one thing only, the condition of Colonel O'Neill. Not that she expected much to have changed in the few hours she'd permitted herself to sleep. She was pleased to see one thing; Carter was gone.   
  
Likely it was only because she had to pee, but hopefully she'd decided to get at least a little sleep while she was out.  
  
The night nurse's report was not as pleasing. The monitors were all over the place much of the night and three times the Colonel had lapsed into a near-fatal heart rhythm, each time pulling himself out of it just as the nurses started a full code response. The last time was the worst. His heart stopped completely for over a minute. To the doctor's dismay, sometime during the night the ICP had come out, the nurses were most apologetic and assured her it was not because they'd handled him too roughly. Frasier just shook her head in response; she would have liked to keep it for at least one more day.  
  
Despite the horrid night somehow that morning he seemed better. When she checked the incision she was surprised at how much healing had occurred. Apparently Khalil wasn't as injured as she first thought.  
  
Days later O'Neill was still stable and improving though very slowly. Frasier ordered the sedation to be deceased slightly and ordered a CT just to check up on her second patient. She was shocked at the results; she'd seen films like this before, right after Jolinar died of massive trauma. She closed her eyes and massaged her aching temples with her fingertips. Dead. There was not doubt this time, no margin for error, Khalil was dead.  
  
Carter found herself in this position far too often it seemed. Frasier broke the news that morning Khalil was unmistakingly dead, verified by CT and EEG. There was only a single brain wave pattern; no doubt remained. She came here directly afterward and hadn't moved for several hours. It was calming in a way, serene even. The only sound was the beeping of the monitors and soft whooshing noise of air being blown through the oxygen tubing. The only motion was the slight rise and fall of the white sheet as the man before her took shallow breaths. At least according to Janet he was breathing on his own. The trach was still there with it's odd-looking tubing sticking out of his neck in case that changed; but it was still an improvement. She tried to remind herself of that and not stare at how pale he looked against the white sheets.  
  
As she sat there with him she thought about the things he said to her that last night. She thought about other things too, it wasn't just her work she needed to be able to share it was the people here at the SGC that she loved. It was a little bit of an epiphany, yes she did love them, and that was okay. Right then she knew in the deepest part of her heart this was all the family she needed. If things changed in the future so be it. She wouldn't have any regrets, not for allowing these people to be the most important things in her life.  
  
She took his hand and began talking to him. Janet swore it was possible he could hear what she was saying and that it was not just therapy for her. She told him how sorry she was she'd missed some things before but was determined to stay with him this time, no matter what. As she spoke she squeezed his hand and to her surprise he squeezed back.   
  
Her head jerked up eyes open wide. Not sure if it was just a reflex she leaned forward and spoke to him more directly than before, "Colonel, it's Carter, can you feel my hand? You squeezed it once can you do it again? Squeeze my hand." He did. This time he tightened his grip and didn't let go. Carter was too frightened to let go of him, thinking that somehow by breaking the connection she'd lose him again. Instead of going to find Frasier, she yelled for her.  
  
The doctor came around the corner running, expecting nothing and everything at the same time. She stopped just short of the foot of the bed. "What's wrong?"  
  
Carter answered with tears in her eyes, "He squeezed my hand."  
  
Frasier immediately came to the other side of the bed and shone the penlight into his eyes. She smiled for the first time in days it seemed. "I think you're right." She dimmed the overhead light and took his other hand. "Colonel? It's time to wake up. Open your eyes. You can do it."  
  
His first response was to tighten his fingers on both of the hands he was holding. Carter looked up at Janet just as she looked back and they smiled at each other. Something was happening. They both looked at his face expectantly. His eyelids fluttered for a moment then opened slowly. Relief washed over them both.  
  
"Colonel, it's good to have you back. You can't talk right now because there's a tube in your throat. Do you understand?"  
  
He moved his head just slightly to nod and winced at the discomfort. The brace had already been removed but the muscles were still weak.  
  
Frasier glanced at Sam for approval to tell him with what they both knew they must. "Colonel, you should know, Khalil..."  
  
He responded before she could say more by squeezing her hand again and pressing his eyes shut firmly. He knew. The silence in his head was deafening. He could barely remember what it was like to be alone in his own mind, he was so accustomed to Khalil being there; even after this short while.  
  
He wanted to turn away but settled for keeping his eyes closed and shutting out the world that way. Both women took the hint and silently exited leaving him to be alone in his grief.  
  
The loss was horrendous. It was so similar to losing Charlie and brought all of those feelings back to the surface. Severe trauma, no time to say goodbye, no way to hold back the inevitable.  
  
He never thought about it before but his relationship with Khalil had grown considerably. At first he was a kind of 'pet' something that was there but only occasionally given attention. From that he became something much more. O'Neill had to explain the customs of Earth to him and 'bring him up' so to speak in how humans here lived their lives and what behaviors were acceptable and what was not.   
  
In many ways it was like raising a son- in a vastly accelerated time frame of course, but still very much the same. With his playful and curious nature, it was not hard to forget Khalil was centuries old, which only made the parallel more realistic.   
  
Most recently O'Neill was beginning to view Khalil as an equal, a step of immense proportions. Even Khalil understood. It was a final acceptance of their status as a 'blended' being, making the ultimate choice to not go back. That choice was not quite yet made and O'Neill winced, he should have told him days ago, before the last mission. He hoped Khalil knew. He wasn't going back.  
  
While O'Neill physically grew stronger over the next several days, he remained withdrawn and eerily quiet. Carter came and went, Teal'c came and went. Daniel often came and stayed for long periods of time. He was dealing with his own guilt for not being able to get them out of a bad situation.   
  
By this time all the tubes were out except a single IV in O'Neill's hand. He was grateful especially to get the tube out of his neck and that 'spike' out of his groin. Both of those made him feel like some kind of bizarre life-sized voodoo doll.  
  
Still the Colonel was barely talking. After another visit and a one-sided conversation Carter rose from the chair and slowly walked past Frasier's office and toward the door.   
  
"Sam."   
  
Carter stopped walking and glanced in the little room. "Janet."  
  
Frasier waved her hand and spoke in a hushed tone. "Come in here. Close the door."  
  
Carter did as she was told, and plopped down in the hard chair. "He's not getting better is he?"   
  
"You know, neither did you for a long time."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Jolinar."  
  
Carter's face dropped. "That was different. I never came to accept her before she died. Maybe I would have if there'd been time, I don't know. What he's feeling has got to be something beyond my comprehension."  
  
"You think he'd made the choice to keep the symbiote?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Janet looked down at her hands thoughtfully. "You're still the only one with any where near the same experience." She glanced at the Major for a sign and when none was forthcoming she continued. "He's suffering from severe depression. I'm thinking of calling in Doctor Mackenzie."  
  
Carter's head shot up. "That won't help."  
  
Now Janet's hand sneaked over and rested on Sam's. "Maybe not, but there is something that might."  
  
Sam didn't move.   
  
"Talk to him. Not about what's happening around here or your latest project. Talk to him about Jolinar. About what it was like to gain something so extraordinary and then lose it. Or; don't talk. Just be there for him. I know what you went through. I was here. Cassie was here. There was a while we weren't sure you'd make it."  
  
"Cassie helped. I was so afraid she'd hate me after how I threatened her, and then this 'thing' that had made me into a monster, turned out to be something caring, noble even. If there had just been a little more time." He head dropped to her hands.  
  
"I'm planning on taking out the IV later. He hasn't asked, not even once, but I plan to permit him to leave the infirmary. Why don't you come back in a while and we'll see if we can motivate him?"  
  
Carter nodded hesitantly. She still had issues to deal with herself; how could she help the Colonel? 


	7. Consequences pt7

Consequences   
  
Pt 7  
  
Late that afternoon when Carter returned she found O'Neill staring at a tuna sandwich as if he could just make it go away. He didn't even notice her come up to the bedside.  
  
"Is this the 'tuna torture' I've heard about?"  
  
He glanced up at her then back at the offending fish.  
  
"If you eat maybe Janet will let you out of here."  
  
"She already said I could go."  
  
Carter was shocked. Normally he'd be out like a flash before Frasier even got his discharge on the chart. She picked up one of the pieces and took a small bite. "Not bad considering."  
  
"Commissary fare?"  
  
"Don't like tuna."  
  
One corner of his mouth turned up. "So why'd you try it?"  
  
"To see why you weren't."  
  
The frown returned.  
  
She let him sit and stare for another full minute then pushed the tray away from in front of him and gestured to the pile of clothing on the chair. "Get dressed."  
  
What about the sandwich?"  
  
"I'll wrap it up. Get dressed, please." She pulled the curtain around him and waited. It was several seconds before she heard the bed creak and his bare feet slap on the floor. There was a rustle of fabric and a few grunts and groans from the other side to indicate he was doing what she asked. When she felt she'd waited long enough she peeked around the curtain to see O'Neill seated in the chair lacing up his boots. Despite himself it felt good to be back in normal clothes and he knew it would be an improvement to be anywhere but the infirmary even if it was only for a few hours.  
  
"So, where are we going?" He knew Frasier would assign him a 'sitter' and apparently Sam won the draw- or lost it.  
  
"Outside."  
  
"I think the Doc's words were 'you can walk around a little and stretch your legs, but no leaving the base'."  
  
"Okay, we won't *go* off the base."  
  
"Fine." He gave the laces a final tug and stood up.  
  
She gave a little gesture toward the table and the sandwich to which he responded by rolling his eyes and walking out of the room.  
  
There were few places they could go outside that would still be considered within the confines of the base and he followed her lead. He walked slowly along, hands in his pockets, and only responded to the 'hello's' and salutes of the people along the way when he had to.  
  
Their trek ended at the rear emergency exit from the mountain. As usual two SF's were posted at the door and once outside Carter walked a little way further where they would have some privacy. Someone had set up a few benches here to be used for the occasional lunch or smoke break they were able to take.  
  
Carter dusted one off with her hand and sat on one end then looked expectantly up at O'Neill.  
  
He shrugged and took a seat. "I suppose you want to talk, or more precisely you want *me* to talk."  
  
"Actually I thought *we* could talk. You know we have a really big something in common now."  
  
He leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees. "Jolinar."  
  
Carter mimicked his pose and replied. "Khalil."  
  
"Kinda the same, granted, but a lot of differences."  
  
"Okay, we'll start there." She knew she'd never completely opened up herself to him or anyone else where Jolinar was concerned. She was a Tok'ra after all and they were *not* his favorite people. Somehow it wasn't so hard to talk about it now.   
  
"Being 'blended' with her wasn't anything like I expected it to be. I saw what Ferretti went through and from the instant she was in me that's what I thought was going to happen. He endured so much pain, but Jolinar never did that to me. She held me in check and wouldn't let me speak but she never really caused me pain like that."  
  
O'Neill stared at the ground. "Yeah. Lou got the real deal. God, that was a mess, wasn't it? We were so naïve back then."  
  
Carter couldn't suppress a grin. If there was one thing she could not equate with O'Neill it was naivety. "What was it like with Kanan?"  
  
He raised an eyebrow in her direction; he assumed she would ask about Khalil. Kanan was another matter entirely. "Typical Tok'ra. Secretive. Scheming. He kept me *way* out of the loop."  
  
"What he did was partially because of you. The blending made him face something about himself and he didn't like what he saw."  
  
He rose up slightly and glared at her. "Yeah. Well, my heart bleeds." He turned back and dropped his chin onto his fists with a huff.  
  
There was a long silence between them before Carter spoke again. "Khalil didn't seem very 'typical'."  
  
"No." O'Neill's voice became almost a whisper. "He wasn't."  
  
"Tell me about him."  
  
"You've dealt with him as a part of the team; you know what he was like."  
  
"No, I know how he related to all of us and from that I believe he was a good person, er, symbiote." She frowned at her own choice of words. "But I don't know how he treated you when you were alone or what motivated him."  
  
"Motivation. What motivates any of us? Making a better world for us and our kids I guess. And...he treated me well. Better than I treated him on more than one occasion." His eyes fell and he looked as though he'd been struck by something sharp.  
  
She brushed her hand lightly against his thigh. "I miss him."  
  
"Yeah. Me, too."  
  
  
  
  
  
O'Neill checked back in with Frasier and was given leave to stay in his base quarters that night instead of the infirmary.   
  
Early the next morning Frasier heard footsteps and looked up from her work, expecting to see O'Neill there for his promised early check in. Instead she saw Sam. She rose and walked into the main room. "Have you seen Colonel O'Neill yet this morning?"  
  
Carter shook her head. "He wasn't in his quarters; I thought he'd be here."  
  
"Well, he should be. Maybe he's just taking a shower."  
  
"Uh, uh. Major Pierce just came from there, I noticed his hair was wet. He hasn't seen the Colonel either."  
  
"Dammit. I should have known."  
  
After a quick search of the facility and a call to base security they found him in the control room, head cradled in his folded arms on the desk, asleep. The night technician was just going off duty and quietly told them his 'guest' had been present all night making small talk and fiddling with things. He'd just passed out a few minutes before they walked in.  
  
Frasier shook her head but walked over to him and gently touched his shoulder, waking him instantly. He blinked up at her trying to clear his brain.  
  
Her voice turned rigid. "Infirmary. Ten minutes. No arguments."  
  
He passed the physical without a problem but she wasn't about to let him off for not taking her advice to rest. She didn't for one minute buy his explanation of 'a little insomnia' and promised he would regret it if he didn't listen to her.  
  
She still wasn't pleased but decided it wasn't doing him any good to remain on base at this point so she released him to go home. He was to call her for any problems and check in later that evening before he sacked out for the night.  
  
He skipped seeing his team or even stopping by Hammond's office and went straight home. It was comforting to be in the familiar surroundings but O'Neill very quickly became restless. It was just too quiet for one thing. He'd never been big on making lots of noise but now the silence was making him feel creepy. Even the usual television shows he watched didn't hold his interest. He finally gave up, grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.   
  
There was a small park within walking distance of his home and he was there in minutes. It was still early and the park was alive with the sounds of children playing and pets enjoying their frequent but too-short outings. Strangely just being near others made him feel better. He stayed and watched the people and animals until most everyone was gone and the quiet began to encroach on him again.  
  
He walked home but once there did not go inside. After fumbling a minute for his keys he went straight to his truck and got in. He ended up going to a restaurant that had a bar and a full parking lot denoting there would be plenty of people inside. He knew he really didn't want to drink but ordered a beer and sipped on it. Still feeling isolated, he tried to strike up a conversation with one of the waitresses but after getting a sour look from the bartender decided it would be better if he just listened to other's chatting and pretend to show some interest in the program on the TV. He'd do anything to avoid going home. He ordered a shot of whiskey and another beer intending to nurse it for as long as he could.  
  
He barely noticed when someone sat down beside him. "You didn't check in."  
  
His head jerked up at the sound of the familiar voice. As he shifted his eyes to verify the presence of his 2IC he immediately shut back down again. "Guess not." He took a sip of the now warm beer.  
  
"We've been looking all over for you."  
  
When he didn't answer she continued. "They're closing soon. Where are you going next?"  
  
He lowered his head, apparently someone had spotted him at the park and now she'd figured it out; he was avoiding going home. "It's too quiet."  
  
"Here?" She frowned at him and glanced around the room. The television was on with a replay of some sporting event, the bartender was clinking glasses as he washed them, and there were still a few people around talking and laughing.  
  
"Everywhere."  
  
She thought about his answer for a moment. While he'd always been someone who enjoyed the stimulation of other people he also had a very private side and never seemed to have a problem being alone. In many ways he was alone all the time. Then it struck her; he hadn't been truly 'alone' since he blended with Khalil, and now something that had become a huge part of his life was snatched away from him.  
  
She recalled when she was first fully awake after Jolinar died. Even though their time together had not been very pleasant there was a vacuous silence when the Tok'ra was gone. She could only guess what it must be like for Khalil's considerably more amiable presence to be gone from O'Neill's mind. She placed a hand tentatively on his forearm and spoke to him. "Let's go."  
  
He lowered his eyes and nodded almost imperceptibly. He laid enough money on the bar to pay his tab and then some and then stood and put on his jacket. They walked silently out to the parking lot. His truck was parked off to one side and her car was near the entrance.  
  
She glanced from her car to his truck and then to him, and continued to walk beside him toward his truck.  
  
"I think I can get across the parking lot myself."  
  
"No doubt in my mind." She looked up at him as they walked, "You think anyone will mess with my car if I leave it here?"  
  
He nearly stopped but kept on after giving her a sideways glance. So, fine, Carter was back in her 'babysitting ' mode. "Doubt it, they leave the lights on all night and it's too close to the main drag."  
  
Though he knew she might have an agenda thanks to old Doc Frasier, he let the thought go as unimportant. Despite spending this whole day around people, he still did not relish going home to an empty house. He fell right into the routine of having a female presence to consider, unlocking her door first and opening it for her. He stood by as she got in to lend a hand if it was needed. With her height it rarely was no matter what kind of vehicle she was climbing into but she nodded her appreciation of the offer.  
  
They did not speak for the short drive to his home, or once they were inside. He'd held the door for her then tossed his keys on a table and hung up his jacket then flopped into a chair; suddenly very tired and aware he'd pretty much wasted an entire day. Carter realized she had forgotten to call Frasier and moved into the kitchen to place the call without disturbing him.  
  
Once back in the den she saw he had not moved from his position and was sitting with his eyes closed. She walked over to the couch and turned to look at him wondering if he was asleep.  
  
"You have something to say?"  
  
His comment startled her. "No, well, yes actually. This thing that's happened to you, it's eating you up from the inside. It would help if you'd talk about it."  
  
His eyes suddenly flew open and he abruptly stood. "You want some coffee?"  
  
She took an involuntary step back and nodded at the unexpected question. "Have a seat, and uh, turn on a few more lights, okay?"  
  
He sounded so normal, so in control of his faculties she was shocked to hear the crash of breaking glass from the kitchen. When she rushed to investigate she found O'Neill glaring at a broken plate on the floor. The cabinet door was open where she assumed he'd been reaching for coffee mugs but somehow a plate had managed to slip and fall. He was holding a coffee mug in each hand and suddenly, forcefully threw one of the mugs down on the floor to join the plate in pieces.  
  
She jumped as the mug exploded on impact sending little bits of glass all over the floor. A moment later the second mug joined its mate.   
  
O'Neill turned away from the mess and leaned his hands heavily on the counter, obviously trying to force down his raw emotions.   
  
"Let me rephrase what I said; it wouldn't just *help* to talk, you *need* to talk."  
  
"No." He replied sternly. He wondered if this had been a good idea after all. Companionship was one thing but he was in no mood to be grilled.  
  
Carter waited a moment then slowly picked her way through the rubble, crunching the hard pieces underfoot. She stepped up to the counter and removed two mugs from the cabinet then set them in front of the coffee maker.   
  
He heard the cabinet door close softly and then her voice. "You know there *is* such a thing as anger management."  
  
He spun around to confront her and stopped cold. She stood before him with a solid; half puckered frown on her face and a whole stack of plates in her hands, holding one out to him.  
  
He angrily snatched the plate from her but stopped himself from throwing it down, instead letting his arm drop to his side and dangle with the dish firmly in his grip. He stared at the floor for a minute and the rubble he'd created and kicked one of the larger pieces with his foot. He turned to her and gestured with the plate in his hand as if it were a pen or some other much smaller object.   
  
"God-dammit, Carter. It just makes no sense, Khalil dying like that. A simple lucky shot by some overzealous kid who thought he was doing me a favor. If we'd only had the chance to explain it to them." His voice was strained and broken as he said the words. "They snuffed out his life with all the care they'd take stomping a fucking cockroach!"  
  
He moved to toss the plate less than gently on the counter and she grabbed for it just as he swung his arm. For a moment they both held the plate and their eyes met, his still burning with anger and hers with a resolve to deal with it.  
  
His eyes closed and brows knit as he released the plate and brought his hand up to scrub over his face. "It was a waste; a horrible, detestable waste. And you know the worst part? I doubt he even held it against them. He knew what he was, he even called *himself* a parasite. If they just hadn't seen him, if I'd stayed in control..." He pressed the heels of both hands into his eyes.  
  
She looked at him sadly. "I'm sorry all this has happened to you, but it's good to let it out. It was hard for me to do that after Jolinar too. It all comes down to dealing with the control issue. I guess they can't help themselves."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"The Tok'ra, even though they're the 'good guys' they still force themselves on their hosts sometimes."  
  
"What?"  
  
She huffed out an impatient breath. "When Jolinar took me she controlled me completely, used me in whatever way she wanted to. I know Khalil was a lot more pleasant to be around but when push came to shove he still took over control. There was nothing you could have done."  
  
"Not following..." He could feel his anger increasing.  
  
"The bottom line is that if he hadn't shown himself to those people the outcome might have been totally different. You just said it yourself."  
  
"You're *nuts*, you know that? You think that because Jolinar forced you that Khalil took advantage of me too. It wasn't like that with Khalil. It *never* was like that." His eyes bore into hers defiantly.  
  
She backed off slightly. "I'm glad it wasn't, because when Jolinar-"  
  
He barked at her cutting her off. "Would you just *stop* it! Stop comparing them. They were nothing alike. You can't understand."  
  
"Can't understand?" she was irate. "So why do I have this Naquadah in my blood? Colonel, the circumstances may have been different but I've been there. I think I deserve some credit for that."  
  
"For what? Being taken against your will? Face it, you never wanted it, you never made your peace with it like I did. I *chose* to take Khalil."  
  
"On your death bed! Some choice! You were as shocked as any of us when you woke up with a symbiote in your head!" They were standing only a few feet apart and speaking much more loudly than was required.  
  
"Khalil. His name was Khalil. I'd appreciate it if you remembered that for more than a minute."  
  
"So now my memory is faulty too? You know something?" She poked a finger in his direction. "You whined about it being too quiet around here. Well it wouldn't *be* so quiet and lonely if you didn't insult people who are only trying to help you." With that she snatched up her jacket and headed for the door.  
  
"It's a long walk back to the bar."  
  
"I don't think so." She retorted and with that snatched up his keys from the table.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
She was out the door in a second and already in his truck by the time he hit the front walkway. He went to the driver's side door and tried to pull it open but she'd already locked it. He pounded on the glass with his fists, too late, the engine roared and without another look at him she backed out into the road and drove away.  
  
He stood for a few minutes yelling curses at her and then realized he was getting wet. It was starting to rain.   
  
He went back in the house and paced around like a caged animal, cursing all the while. There was as much a storm going on inside his house as was brewing outside. She thought he insulted her? Where did she get off thinking that? He had an idea of the pain she endured with Jolinar and was incensed she'd dare compare her experience with his and Khalil. And now, she'd taken his truck!  
  
He paced around a while longer then glanced at the clock on the mantle. It had been more than twenty minutes. She probably went to the restaurant to get her car and left his truck sitting there. He wondered if she would have had sense enough to leave the keys and lock it. Who knew? Even under the parking lot lights it would be an easy mark if it were left unlocked.  
  
He took off on foot and still in a huff toward the restaurant to retrieve his truck, swearing he'd make her pay for any damages. It was still raining when he left but he didn't care, he went anyway.  
  
The walking took longer than he'd anticipated not made any easier by the increasing strength of the rain. As he walked the curses turned to muttering and then to nothing; the only sounds were his own splashing footfalls and the soft pelting of the rain. He realized he'd run out of the house without his jacket or even his ball cap and was getting thoroughly drenched to the bone.  
  
Instead of becoming angrier for getting wet, the rain seemed to settle him somewhat. He began to think about what Carter had said to him in those few minutes before he'd virtually forced her to run out on him. It *was* perhaps a little about control. Or more specifically losing control. He grimaced and hunched his shoulders. Maybe there was a grain of truth in there. Though Khalil had only once forced him, and that only half-heartedly, in truth there was no question of the symbiotes ability to prevail. Khalil had stopped exactly when he wanted to and not a moment before.   
  
O'Neill found that although the very idea was more than unpleasant to him, he did have to put it in the same category with the other attributes he credited to Khalil. The only thing that made it bearable was that he never had to face it on a constant basis like Carter did when she was blended with Jolinar.  
  
The aftermath had nearly killed Carter; not one of the SGC 'family' could bring her out of it. Thank God for Cassie, it took the gentle, unwavering trust of a child to bring Sam back to herself. For a long time afterward she seemed to second-guess herself, always wondering if her decisions were being influenced by Jolinar even after her death.   
  
By the time he made it to the parking lot he was walking much more slowly than when he'd started out. It wasn't that he was that tired; the weight of his thoughts was bearing down on him. Carter was right, he was shoving away someone who only wanted to help him and whether he wanted to admit it or not, she was likely the only one who could.  
  
He stood at the edge of the pavement and slumped his shoulders. His truck was nowhere to be seen; the only vehicle in the lot was a silver sports car, Carter's, of course.  
  
His anger flared for a moment though not really at his 2IC, he was angry with himself for letting this go so far. He strode over to the car and pounded a fist on the doorframe to release a little of his pent up frustration. The rain was stinging his eyes and he turned and sat against the front fender of the car leaning forward to wipe some of the water from his face. One hand grasped the edge of the wheel opening and his fingertips bumped into something. It caught his attention immediately. On his truck he'd hidden a spare key in a small magnetic box up under one of the fenders; would Carter have done the same thing?  
  
He quickly reached further and grasped the small metal box. It came away from the hiding place easily and opened to reveal a key just as he'd hoped.  
  
He unlocked the door and nearly had to fold himself in half to get his tall frame into the squashed quarters. Luckily the seat could be moved back several inches and soon he was much more comfortable. As he started the engine he realized where it was he should go, and it was not home.  
  
It wasn't a long drive to Carter's house but he was glad to not have to walk it, especially in the rain. As it was he was still drenched to the point of dripping everywhere and most certainly he'd leave a huge water spot on the leather seat; it felt like he was sticking to it already.  
  
His truck was in her drive as expected but he barely gave it a glance as he walked up to her door and knocked. First the outside light flicked on and the door opened to reveal a slightly disheveled looking Carter with her eyes open wide. She'd already changed for bed and was wrapping a robe around herself as she came to the door.  
  
"Sir, what are you doing here?" She looked around then back at him as if he were a drowned rat, which was not that far off.  
  
He dove right in. "Carter, I was an ass. You were right about everything you said, I'm the one who wasn't facing it. I'm sorry."  
  
Her shoulders relaxed and her head tilted just a little. "Me, too. You weren't ready. I shouldn't have pushed." Her eyes lowered to the ground and she noticed the expanding puddle at O'Neill's feet. He was on her porch and was therefore not standing out in the rain but he was so wet it didn't make any difference.  
  
She caught his arm by the wrist and dragged him forward into the house. "Look at you! What did you do? Walk all the way here?"  
  
"No, actually I-" He turned to gesture to her car parked just behind his truck but she wasn't listening.  
  
Her fingers picked at the T-shirt that was sticking to him like glue. She pulled it away from his skin and let it loose immediately. "You're freezing!"  
  
He hadn't even noticed it until now but he was shivering, not quite to the point of chattering teeth but he was really, really cold. He hunched his shoulders as a fresh chill and another rivulet ran down his back.  
  
"Dammit, Colonel. You're just asking for a case of pneumonia!" She grabbed his wrist again and headed off down the hall with him in tow.  
  
"Carter!"  
  
She spun around and held up one finger sternly at his face. "Shower. Now."  
  
The tugging resumed and he gave in though under protest. "I'm already a prune! Come on!"  
  
She didn't turn around. "Fine. Make it a short one, but make it *hot*. Janet will have my hide if I bring you back to her infirmary sick." With that she shoved him into the bathroom and pulled the door toward her but not completely closed. She reached a hand in the narrow opening. "Give me your clothes. All of them."  
  
He balked a moment but it suddenly struck him as funny. All he could see was her forearm and hand but she was wiggling her fingers as if antsy to receive the requested items.  
  
She growled through the door. "Faster. You're dripping on my rug."  
  
He looked down and she was right. The soft fluffy carpet was matted down flat in several large places where he'd stepped with his wet boots. He quickly sat on the edge of the tub and stripped out of his clothes. It was disconcerting to be naked in an unfamiliar place but made much worse when he glanced at the still partially open door and Carter's hand still there. He got up and gingerly handed over his clothes, even the boxers, which were as soaked as everything else.  
  
He moved to shut the door but she blocked it. "Boots."  
  
"Oh." He picked them up but had to open the door wider to get them through and crouched back behind it.  
  
She snatched them away angrily. "My God, Colonel! I have a *brother* you know. You think we never walked in on each other?"  
  
He was about to respond to that but he could already hear her footsteps moving away and down the hall. He shivered again and remembered he actually *did* have a purpose for being in here and unclothed, and stepped into the shower.   
  
He stayed in longer than he planned it felt so good to be warm again. He turned off the water and slid the door aside to find a large fluffy towel had been placed just within his reach on the counter. He also noticed it was too far from the door to have been placed there without someone coming in. 'Shit.' He groused under his breath. He must be going for a new record of 'stupid things O'Neill could do' in a single day.  
  
He dried off then wrapped the towel around his hips and cautiously opened the door. "Carter?"  
  
She came too quickly from around the corner and he pushed the door forward in response.  
  
"Sorry, Sir. Your things are in the dryer. It's gonna be awhile; and I can't find anything around the house you might be able to wear."  
  
"So much for getting warm."  
  
She looked back at him peeking around the door. "There is an option. My guest bedroom is that way." She pointed to an open doorway. I'll go back downstairs for a few minutes; you go in there and get under the covers. Leave the wet towel in the bathroom."  
  
Before she could move he leaned out a little further and growled at her. "Carter! I will *not* streak in your house!"  
  
She bit back a sudden grin and turned away. "Fine! But that towel better *not* end up in my bed!" She marched on down the hall, giggling.  
  
'Dammit.' He leaned out and watched her leave.   
  
When she returned the bathroom had been vacated and the door to the bedroom closed. She rapped on it lightly. "Sir? Can I come in?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
She smiled again when she entered. The towel was hanging off the back of a chair dutifully away from the bed and her CO was in the bed, nearly completely under the covers. He'd pulled them all the way up to his chin and was peering at her over his knuckles.  
  
"You know we've both been in the infirmary wearing just about what you are now."  
  
He didn't move. "I guess."  
  
She walked closer and noticed his hair was still wet. "Why did you decide to come here? I mean now, in the pouring rain?"  
  
"Brought your car back. Came to get my truck."  
  
She looked at him sternly just now making the connection. "Just how wet *is* the inside of my car?"  
  
"Could be a little damp."  
  
She rolled her eyes and dropped to the edge of the bed with a bounce. "Did you *have* to take my car?"  
  
"You took my truck."  
  
He said it so matter-of-factly it made her feel silly. He was right. She had been staring at him but she suddenly looked away.  
  
He lowered the covers a little and raised his head up to look at her. "What, no comeback?" He smiled at her discomfort.   
  
She responded grumpily. "First time for everything."  
  
There was a short pause and he said, "I really didn't come for my truck."  
  
She looked at him and tried to decipher his expression; his eyes seemed darker and exhibited a more solemn quality than was usually there. He blinked one time and the tension eased slightly.   
  
"Tell me about Jolinar."  
  
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "What do you want to know?"  
  
He scooted himself up in the bed so he could sit up and rest his back against the pillows. As he did the covers slid down to reveal most of his chest but he didn't try to cover himself having dismissed the excessive modesty caused by his current circumstances. She was right after all, he couldn't count the number of times he'd been visited by his team while in the infirmary and was covered by layers of cloth *much* thinner than this. Still, the sense of sterility from the infirmary wasn't present here either. This definitely wasn't a hospital bed or that kind of situation. He leaned back and set his hands in his lap with his fingers interwoven as a kind of additional barrier.  
  
He shrugged off any lingering discomfort and remembered why it was he'd come in the first place. The interest alone in what his 2IC might say was enough to put him at ease. "Just tell me about her. What was she like when she wasn't scared to death and running for her life?"  
  
She repositioned herself to sit more fully on the bed aware of their proximity. It was more than a little distracting to know her CO was utterly naked beneath the sheets and right in front of her but she didn't want to discourage him if he was willing to open up and talk with her.  
  
She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on answering the question. "She was brave, and fearless, at least out on the field and in a firefight. She was running from that damn Ashrak for a long time. Once he'd gotten on her trail he was relentless. Her move into a male host was a last-ditch effort."  
  
"What about before that?"  
  
"She went on a lot of missions for the Tok'ra. She was so pretty she could weasel her way into a lot of places no one else could."   
  
For several minutes Carter related bits and pieces of the memories she'd recovered from Jolinar while O'Neill listened intently. Some things were sad, some were joyous, but they all spoke of a truly dedicated and remarkable individual.   
  
At one point the story she told caught his attention to a greater degree. "They were pinned down on three sides by the Horus guards and were sure they'd never make it out alive. The explosives were set on a timer-"  
  
His voice broke in. "Set to go off in three minutes. If they weren't able to get out of the building by that time they'd be blown up with the storage crates and the Jaffa."  
  
She looked at him with narrowed eyes and continued more slowly. "But they didn't know a small contingent had doubled back-"  
  
"And out-flanked the Jaffa. The guards were routed and the Tok'ra contingent was rescued."  
  
After he'd finished her thought for the second time they sat just staring at each other. It was a long minute before she could respond. When she did it was in a hushed tone. "Khalil was there?"  
  
"Apparently so." He nodded, taken just as much by surprise as she had been.  
  
Carter thought for another minute and remembered more. Suddenly the man before her wasn't Colonel O'Neill, wasn't her CO or any way connected with the SGC, and she wasn't Major Samantha Carter.  
  
"You *were* there! You saved my life when you-" She stopped to breathe as the memories caught up with her. Tears welled in her eyes. "You took a staff blast in the chest. You lost your host." She choked on the last word.  
  
She had been looking down unable to face him for a moment and when she looked up she saw his eyes were closed and his face was wet. He'd remembered. From a different point of view, of course, but the same battle and the same events. It struck her with awe that they would be connected in this unusual way. The idea of shared memories never crossed her mind.  
  
Without a thought she clambered up to the head of the bed and sat beside him, curling herself onto his shoulder and hugging his upper arm tightly. "A lot of people were saved that day."  
  
His voice was rough and strained. "A lot of good people died saving them."  
  
She squeezed his arm. "I know."  
  
They were silent for a few minutes then he felt the wetness and warmth of her tears on his arm and reached up with one hand to touch her cheek. "Come here."  
  
He slid back down in the bed until he was lying down again and pulled her down beside him, cradling her against his side with her head on his chest.  
  
She complied with some hesitation but once nestled beside him placed one arm across his bare chest taking the chance it could incite something decidedly non-platonic. She needed the contact, needed to feel him there and real, it was worth the risk.  
  
He noticed her stiffen a little and knew, too, they were standing on a very fine edge here, but right now it didn't matter. She was Jolinar and he was Khalil, and though he wasn't her father, he did often think of her as a daughter. He did have deep feelings of affection for her, even love; but it was not passion.   
  
He put a warm hand over hers then turned his face into her hair and kissed the top of her head. "It's all right. You know Lantesh was so proud of what you did that day."   
  
The fact that he was able to retain some of the persona of Khalil encouraged her and she relaxed into his embrace with a smile. Lantesh. They'd only just become lovers back then. Her heart warmed with the memories. They lay still for a while then she shivered slightly.  
  
"You're cold."  
  
She raised her head to look at him, and studied his eyes. It took only seconds to reach a decision and she pulled free of his arm. He began to protest but she stopped it with only a look and a quick raise of her hand.  
  
She stood and shrugged off the thin robe she'd been wearing to reveal the spaghetti-strapped camisole and lightweight sweatpants she was wearing. Her hand reached for the switch on the small bedside lamp that was the only light in the room and stopped. "Do you trust me?"  
  
He looked at her and balked at the question. "Do I...? Isn't that supposed to be the other way around?"  
  
She smiled and flicked off the light and turned back to the bed. Only a little light came through the window but he could plainly see her reach for the covers and lift them so she could slide in next to him. He *just* managed to tuck some of the sheet down between them as she sidled up next to him and whispered "As a matter of fact I do."  
  
Soon she was settled in almost the exact same position as before but with the covers pulled up snug around her shoulders. They lay in a comfortable silence for several minutes just listening and feeling each other breathe.  
  
Eventually she inclined her head upward on his chest and spoke. "Why did you do it?"  
  
"Hmm?" He answered sleepily.  
  
"Why did you offer yourself to Khalil? I know you were dying but you had such strong opinions of the Tok'ra. What was it that changed your mind?"  
  
He sighed heavily. "It's hard to say. I only talked to him for a few minutes. I guess it struck me that he wasn't trying to get to me; he didn't even seem to care about finding a new host and saving himself at the time. All he wanted to do was talk about his host and how he'd let him down. It was strange; even after I told him there might be someone available for him, he didn't push to know who it was. I think he was shocked when I told him it would be me."  
  
She was silent for so long he wondered if she'd fallen asleep. "I don't think I would have done the same for Jolinar."  
  
A smile flicked over his lips, "Yes, you would." Then a frown. "On 827, what happened- it wasn't a question of being forced."  
  
She moved her head to look at him.  
  
"When that guy grabbed your arm all I could think of was how much I wanted to stop him. Khalil didn't 'force' his way out, I pulled him out."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"Simple. I needed an edge and I took advantage of Khalil to get one. It cost him his life."  
  
His words trailed off and she was silent for a moment comprehending his feelings of guilt; her head lowered back to his chest. "I don't think you could have made him come out if he didn't want to. He knew what was at stake."  
  
He stared at the ceiling. "Maybe."  
  
After a long silence she shifted her position slightly and gave him a little squeeze. She shifted her position slightly. "Tell me about him. Some of his history."  
  
O'Neill shook his head. "I don't know what I can remember, that, what happened before, was a fluke."  
  
"I'll help you, just try."  
  
She wasn't looking at him but she could feel him nodding. "Okay, where do I start?"  
  
She gave him a little squeeze with the arm that was draped across his chest. "At the beginning, of course."  
  
  
  
Epilogue  
  
Carter looked up at the sound of a soft rapping to see O'Neill standing in the doorway. "Got a minute?"  
  
"Sure." She smiled and gestured to a second stool at the lab table where she was sitting.  
  
He moved the stool back so they would be a little further apart then sat on it. "It occurred to me there was something Khalil and I wanted to talk to you about. We never got the chance so I guess it falls to me. It's about that night at my place."  
  
She lowered her eyes for a moment then nodded for him to continue.  
  
"We, I wanted you to know, I mean you deserve to know..."  
  
"It wasn't you."  
  
"You knew?" He was surprised.  
  
"Of course. You think I don't know you?"  
  
He frowned and looked at the floor. "Dammit, here I am talking to you about this and you have more memory of it than I do. I don't even really know what you did."  
  
Her eyebrows rose. "You can't remember?"  
  
"Khalil was pretty secretive about it. Believe me, I've tried. I can't recall anything from that night but extremely vague images and eating, I think, eggplant." He made a face.  
  
She smiled at him. "The memories are there."  
  
When he shook his head she got up and scooted her stool closer to him. She sat on it again close enough their knees brushed against each other. "Close your eyes."  
  
His initial response was to frown and narrow his eyes at her.  
  
"Trust me."  
  
He paused for another half-second then complied, sitting perfectly still with his hands resting in his lap.  
  
She slid right up to the edge of her seat and had to separate her knees to accommodate his.  
  
"Just relax and breathe. Let your mind go back to that night. We did this." She placed her left hand on the edge of the bench and moved his right so it rested on top of hers.  
  
"And this." She took his other hand and brought it up to her chin and held it there as she raised her head to face him.  
  
"And this." She leaned forward until their noses barely touched and he automatically tilted his head to one side.  
  
That little motion sparked a flood within him. Suddenly like the flare of a match being lit it all came back to him, every movement, every sensation, even the taste of the beer she'd been drinking. He relived it, every second seemingly stretched out in slow motion. He shivered and inhaled a quick breath as the vision overwhelmed him.  
  
When it was over he opened his eyes and looked down, somewhat embarrassed, after all in the here and now nothing happened, it was all in his mind. He wondered how much outward sign was evident while he was in the memory; if the ache in his lower section was any indication, there'd been plenty. The thought made him shift uneasily in his seat.  
  
When he looked up again he saw that Carter had moved her stool back to where she'd been before and though she was smiling the sadness showed on her face. As their eyes met she nodded answering his unspoken question. Yes, the memory was accurate.  
  
"Do you want to know when I realized it was Khalil?"  
  
He nodded.   
  
"It was about ten minutes after we arrived. You don't usually sit around in your den spouting technology."  
  
"Ah. You knew *that* long before?" He paused and shook his head. "Why did you-"  
  
"Not stop him?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Because it *wasn't* you... and it *was* you."  
  
He lowered his eyes and nodded his understanding. He got up a little stiffly and moved to the doorway, stopping just inside the opening when she called out to him.  
  
"Sir?" She paused and swallowed. "There's one more thing, and it doesn't have to do with Khalil."  
  
He began to turn but stopped halfway, unsure of what she might say.  
  
"The day after, that's when I broke up with Tony."   
  
He smiled but didn't turn any further and spoke to her. "New moon tonight; if the weather holds it should be a great night for stargazing."  
  
A long pause settled between them and just when he thought there would be no answer she spoke. "Foreign or domestic?"  
  
He lowered his head and grinned as wide as his face would allow. "Domestic. You know I can't stand the European stuff."  
  
He turned back to the hallway and exited the lab.   
  
Carter turned to her computer and resumed typing, she only stopped a moment when she heard what she thought was an ecstatic 'Yes!' coming form the hallway.  
  
Grinning, it seemed, was contagious.  
  
~fin. 


End file.
